Last month, my doctor had a fit of amnesia and asked ME at my appointment what dosage of Metoprolol medication I needed to manage my chronic heart fibrillation.

I've been at 100mg since forever, and of course, he could have just checked my chart, but instead asked me if it was 50mg or 100mg?

Imagine my surprise when I go to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription, and it's only for 50mg.

...which is too drastic a decrease for my heart health, but what choice do I have when I need meds NOW.

So, I call my clinic, explain the mix-up, and say, "I'll take TWO 50mg pills in the meantime, but PLEASE update my prescription to 100mg!"

After I get a sincere apology from my clinic (but not my doctor), I'm prescribed a month of the correct 100mgs.

YESTERDAY, my pharmacy sends me a text that my 50MG Metoprolol is available for pickup. WTF!?

I replied TWICE that my prescription is for 100mg - did they not get the update!?

The pharmacist calls and tells me that my 100mg medication isn't scheduled until the end of this month, and they can't give it to me until then.

She says, to call my doctor to have him explain to them, the same thing that I'm explaining to them now... since apparently she doesn't believe me, nor my records.

<sigh>

Quite calmly and logically, I retorted,

"Well, I was hoping not to have a stroke, but if you insist...?"

Thirty seconds later, I had a medication upgrade available immediately for pickup.

My roommate kept stealing my snacks and always said “Relax, it’s just food.” So one day I made two sandwiches, labeled one “DO NOT EAT” and put it in the fridge. He ate it anyway. The next day, I left him a sandwich with a note saying “Congratulations, you ate my lunch. Your prize is making lunch for both of us tomorrow.” He laughed, but the next morning he actually made two sandwiches and apologized. Apparently the only language my roommate understands is a ridiculous competition. 😂

Let me begin with saying that half of me feels terrible about this, and the other half feels smugly justified.

I (34f) dated, let’s call him Josh (34m) for a little over 3 years beginning over five years ago. Everything was great in the beginning, but then the gaslighting, shrinking of myself, and constantly making me question my reality became too much to bare and we had a nasty breakup where he really dragged my name through the mud- in what I assume was an attempt to knock my confidence to ground zero and make me “realize I needed him”

Anyway, i began plotting exacting my revenge in a way that would subtly make him question his own reality.
He was very vain, and proud of his “good looks” and “gym bod” - but the truth is, after years of him comfortably torturing me- he hadn’t stepped foot in the gym, and the constant manicuring of his hair and beard went out the window long ago. Still, his ego remained.

I started catfishing him on dating apps(he made an account 2 days after we broke up!). At first just matching with him- (I had multiple accounts and conversations running at the same time). And denying him in a very specific way. I started small. For instance- I’d have a girl have a conversation with him for days and then ask for a photo- when he would send it she would say: “No amount of witty banter could make me attracted to you unfortunately, I’m sorry. Best of luck”. Sucks but it happens. This was just oiling up the pan.

The next girl asked him what he was studying in school. of course I knew this already. I also knew I helped him cheat on every single one of his exams- so I objectively knew the material better than him. After asking some specific questions about a topic I knew he struggled with- the next girl turned him down on accounts of “needing to find someone who is an intellectual match” ouch. I’m just warming up.

The following two girls didn’t need a great setup to teach him a lesson- he offered the opportunity up freely. He told both girls variations of “my ex was crazy/ women may be ruined for me”. Both girls gave him variations of “any man who says that was the problem/ eww” glorious machismo complex must be shaking at this point.

Now, I decide I need to take it up a notch or it’s going to get boring for him. He needs more of a reward for his tough taught lessons. In comes my friend- let’s call her Ashley (31F). Ashley is physically Josh’s type to a T- and a wild hearted individual. She was obviously down to join the scheme.

We make a profile for her and begin the process of courting him. He asks for a FaceTime, then a date. Everything is going fantastically. The day of the date comes up and Ashley reschedules, no big deal- just a minor inconvenience- and rescheduled for the following Saturday. A date I knew he wouldn’t remember without me. A date I knew he couldn’t miss and would eventually have to reschedule: his mom’s birthday. The following Saturday comes around and lo and behold- 20 minutes before the date- he cancels. I instruct ashley to wait an hour, call him, visibly upset- and ask if he can make it up to her by calling out of work tomorrow. He agrees.

The next morning- I have Ashley drop the bomb “I was upset and thought you didn’t like me so I got drunk, I’m sorry I called you.” She claimed she didn’t remember asking him to take off of work, that it must have been the booze, and that she was actually busy that whole day, but she could swing by his job Friday night to at least get the ball rolling, and to prove to him she really did want to see him.

He ate it up.
I wonder if he was annoyed that he lost a day of pay. He never took days off in our relationship.
A busy Friday night at the restaurant comes around and we get ashley dolled up to the GODS. Her objective: cause as much emotional destruction as possible. I entered about 20 minutes earlier and got a seat in a dark corner, away from the server station but in view of what would become a spectacle.

Ashley enters the bar and immediately heads turn. She has a gravitational pull. She lingers, greats all of the men- and begins LOUDLY laughing at all of their jokes. She goes off script and gets hammered but it is glorious improv. She’s screaming and breaking glassware. Telling him he’s bigger in real life. Eventually, my ex snaps and gets sent home and takes her home- where she throws up in his brand new prized possession car. He never texts her again. 10/10 work Ashley.

A few months go by and I don’t see him active on dating apps, but I do see him active in the gym and not at bars on find my iPhone. Good for him.

Then one faithful day- I see him in the corner of the bar where we had our first date,with… A FIRST DATE. What an opportunity. And what a coincidence that Ashley and I planned on meeting up later that night. We can bump it up a bit for the plot.

Ashley zooms over and instantly gets into character. Ugly crying and moaning while b lining for their table “why didn’t you text me back, you said you liked me, you said I was different!” The revenge bug was reawakened. I felt empowered by his fear and confusion. Perhaps he still had more work to do before he could enter the dating pool.

A few months pass and I admittedly got a little bored and stopped checking him like my little tamagotchi. He really seemed like he was doing good. Work, home, gym, even therapy.
Then Halloween came about, and that revenge bug got hungry again.

My plan was based entirely on behavioral patterns. He hadn’t gone out in a while, so surely his friends would drag him out on a holiday. Especially one where he can meet drunk girls in costume. So I got to building the perfect catfish costume. An unbelievable cosplay of a character from one of our shared favorite things. It is heavy on sfx makeup and contacts, as well as a wig- so I was undistinguishable. The costume itself is sexy, but a full body suit- so no identifying features would be revealed. In case that wasn’t enough to beckon him, I also got a phone case of his favorite movie, one I openly said I disliked, this way, if he had an inkling it was me, the phone case would push him in the other direction.

May I just say a plan has never worked so flawlessly. I started my night at a bar we both used to frequent. I got a drink and gathered a good spot in the center of the bar where I could be on full view. I pulled out find my iPhone. He was on his way. 5 minutes out. 30 minutes later he approached me and complimented my costume. Here’s where I was scared but years of being a dungeon master payed off. I pitched my voice slightly higher and breathier than my natural voice. He had no idea it was me. We spoke for a while and he got drunk enough where I could enter phase two.

He loves to question and play devils advocate and absolutely hates anyone who claims they have supernatural or psychic abilities. So naturally, I begin telling him that I’m actually pretty psychic and I sense a curse on him. He pushes by asking to prove it by telling him something specific about himself. Man, do I have boatloads of those. I tell him his three letter nickname, and that he prefers it because his name is tied to pain (he’s named after his dad who left him). He’s ordering more drinks and asking more questions. I’m answering with cryptic accuracy. Enough to still kinda be bullshit, but enough to keep him interested. Then- during a cigarette I ask him. “Are you ready for what I have to tell you now”

“Yes.” He drunkenly says.

“I sense romantic mishap in your life and it’s been happening for some time now. There are wrongs you have to right.”

His nerdy ass was eating this up.

“This woman from the past, She holds love for you still, but it almost feels like that love is corrupted. There are things you both have not let go of that bind you together. Until forgiveness is given, this misery will linger.”

In his drunk, nicotine high state- I could see tears welling in his eyes. I had won. I chugged my drink and went home. Irish goodbyed that dude.

He texted me (real me) the next evening. A long, sappy apology about how he didn’t take accountability in our relationship and how he should have treated me better. He admitted to all of his hurtful ways. It was beautiful really. He slipped a bit at the end and started fishing for forgiveness so I had to tighten the noose for the last time. It was such a shame, he was almost free of the curse. I texted him back two words:

“Get fucked.”

I was an emergency dispatcher when I was in college and this was one of my favorite days at work. We listened to this call so many times, I will never forget how perfect it was. So respectful, so patient, perfectly matching the energy of the caller.

For those who don't know how emergency medical dispatch works, here's a quick run down. Once the address and type of emergency is in the computer, the closest or most available responding unit is informed. As they are on their way (if they are free), the dispatcher gets more information about the emergency. This dictates how quick the response is as well as provides the EMS (emergency medical services) with information on what they're walking into.

This call was for a woman going into labor on a college campus. D will be dispatcher and B is Dr. Butt Face. My coworker who took this call was the sweetest, most soft spoken woman. I'm not sure she knew she was being sassy.

D: how many weeks along is the patient?

B: didn't you hear me? I'm Dr. Butt Face and we need EMS right now!

D: I understand Dr. Butt Face, I am just gathering information for EMS as they are on the way to you. Can you ask her how many weeks she is?

B: I'm not asking her anything. Just send EMS

D: EMS is on their way to your location. I just need some more information about the patient. How far apart are her contractions?

B: I'm not timing anything. I'm Dr. Butt Face.

D: Can you ask her if she's feeling an urge to push?

B: why would I do that?

D: because it helps the paramedics know how far into labor she is.

B: do you not understand that I'm Dr. Butt Face and I'm saying she needs to go to the hospital?

D: yes, I understand that, Dr. Butt Face. I'm just asking for you to give us some more information

B: well I don't see why I, /Dr. Butt Face/, should have to answer your questions.

D: Then she will be in your capable hands until the paramedics arrive, Doctor.

B: Wait! I'm a doctor of English, not medicine!

D, with the patience of a saint: then I need you to answer my questions.

The rest of the call went off without a hitch. Dr. butt Face answered every question and followed every instruction until the ambulance arrived. As far as I know mother and baby were safe and healthy.

I am a mother of two with a classic (former) mother in law from hell. She has always been batshit crazy, but she reached a level of what I can only describe as religious psychosis after I filed for divorce.

A little bit of background: I have epilepsy, and if you’ve ever spoken to a hyper-religious person about the condition, they will usually say shit like it’s not real and we’re actually possessed and need religious intervention to make it stop. This was her to a T. She didn’t make a ton of comments to me personally because she would have gotten backlash from my family, but it was said behind my back a lot.

During the divorce, however, she didn’t hold back anymore. She had clearly lost her mind at this point because she tried to tell CPS that I was possessed and had snakes that I was forcing to bite my children. Girl, I don’t even OWN snakes!

She was the main source of stress during the divorce, severely traumatizing me and my kids, and this was just the final straw. So I gathered a bunch of random supplies I had around the house to set up a fake hex ritual. (I do practice the Craft but hexing is not my thing) I set up an altar with all of the most generic, stereotypical “satanic panic” crap I could find. Black candles, a chalice filled with wine, turned my pentacles upside down, random crystals, voodoo doll I threw together, fake bones from Halloween, the works.

I then Facetimed her when I knew her husband would be at work and she was alone (thought about texting but I didn’t want to leave potential evidence with texts lol) Amazingly, she actually answered. The following conversation ensued:

MIL: “What do you want, bitch?”

Me: *Starts spouting random Latin phrases in the creepiest voice possible, showing her the altar, slipping her name in multiple times\* “Hail satan.”
(I do not worship nor even believe in satan lol.)

She starts SCREAMING, and I quickly hang up to make it look like I’d just buttdialed her on accident. She texts me afterward calling me a devil worshipper and went off on a psychotic tangent, saying she would call CPS again, yadda yadda.

I text back:

“I just butt dialed you. What are you even talking about?? Are you calling me possessed because of my epilepsy again??”

I wasn’t expecting her to do this but she actually DID reply confirming she believed I was possessed and demonic, so when she inevitably did call CPS again, it made her sound even crazier and like a total asshole for “discriminating” against someone with a seizure disorder. They didn’t take her very seriously after that AND I got to see her spiral.

Didn’t stop her from continuing to make false allegations against me, but it was fun. I now have full custody of both of my kids, and she is thankfully now dead and buried. Even the kids were glad she was gone lol.

Edit: Thank you for the awards!

I (M17) was humiliated, beaten, spat on, insulted and psychologically crippled by my older brother whom I really loved (he's 14 months older; we grew up like twins except for his biological advantage). He did it in public, in front of our friends etc. I remember, for example, how we were playing soccer in our garden and as I was about to win, he tackled me so brutally that I had a serious knee injury. Or when I almost won as we were playing FIFA 17 on our PS4, he just unplugged it. I never won; when I was about to win, he sabotaged me.

I had intense problems with self-esteem at the age of 8. I remember saying things like "I'm unlovable" to my own mother. I was a cute kid, but I thought I was hideous because of all the indoctrination by my brother; it got so bad that I didn't want to look in the mirror as I was washing my hands. Everyday went like this and my mother, who tried her best but was severely overwhelmed, gave up when I was 8. She said, "Learn to handle it on your own." He was 15–20 kg heavier. I was really skinny whereas he was fat. I cried a lot when I heard that because I was genuinely terrified and scared.

Now to my revenge, I've never actually hurt him back. We both got weed addicted (at around 13) and he even started popping pills. Often I was playing video games on his bed as he was blacking out on an overdose of Xanax, sometimes taking 10 in one night; I looked after him. A few years later my parents found out. All the attention was gifted to him, whereas he had a perfect life and I was the traumatized one. By that time I was fat too, making me ugly and even more insecure. Then his grades started to decline; he went to school on pills while I only smoked weed.

At 15, my grades got better, I got more disciplined and started losing weight. He only got worse. At 16, I was pretty thin already. I graduated middle school in Germany at the same time as him because he had to retake a year; my average was way better, so I went to vocational school and he went to work. This is where it really starts: he came home devastated everyday from the construction site, saying how hard it is and whining. He quit after a year and now goes to school again, but has to pay for it because his GPA is bad. He has one toxic relationship after another, still on pills, even sometimes on coke by now.

In this time I got handsome, started reading philosophy and classic literature. PERFECT grades—I was the best in the whole 11th grade last year, scholarship by now. Met a beautiful and smart autistic girl, stopped smoking weed 4 months ago; healthy coping mechanisms such as going for walks, reading, crying, working out and writing poetry in my first language (German).

Yesterday he said, "I wish I was like you… You’re literally perfect." And that after 13–14 years of being called inferior and many other things, I've surpassed him in every aspect of life. I don’t feel like a god, I still doubt myself often but it's gotten a lot better. Sometimes I feel worthless or too sensitive, but when I remember my achievements and success or just a look in the mirror, it eases the pain and worries. Normally he makes fun of me being a smartass, but yesterday he spoke the truth and admitted me totally surpassing him. I guess that's the cosmic irony.

[ Removed by Reddit on account of violating the content policy. ]

This story actually goes way back to kindergarten.

As a then particularly soft-spoken child with unlimited niche interests and hobbies living in Asia, you can tell my classmates were anything but kind. I only had two childhood best friends, we'll call one of them *"*Riley" for anonymity. Despite us being a trio, they never butt in to defend me when the popular girls were being passive aggressive, which made me despise them, but looking back now they were probably just clueless to what was actually happening and we are still pretty good friends!

I have pretty yellow teeth naturally. They're not pearly whites but they don't look rusty either, and I actually maintain great oral hygiene. But to my classmates, it seemed like I drank literal piss for my teeth is to be a slightly yellow hue. Yes, that was actually a rumour spread by those popular girls believe it or not. The queen bee was a girl we'll call "Madison." She had her friend "Natalie" [who was pretty naive] help her make my life absolute hell. They'd constantly walk past my desk just enough to tip my water bottle over [it was kinda leaky] and would do it hard enough to spill water all over me without even apologising. I eventually started hating school and would cry to my teacher to let me go home as soon as possible. Even worse, these girls [along with their other friends] made me seem like a creep for drawing a bigger chest, completely normal human anatomy by the way, on one of my Jane the Killer drawings.

It would be alright if it was just kindergarten, maybe they didn't know any better. But it continued for a way longer period of time and we were starting to mature then, clearly if they were the type to change then they'd be remorseful by then. I was skinny shamed so bad that I developed BED, which then worsened to peak BN after I gained weight and they started fat shaming me. My self confidence was at an all time low and this period of my life still affects how I view myself and control my eating habits today. Since Madison wasn't going to stop and none of my friends were going to stand up for me, I finally decided to take things into my own hands.

Online class [Yoo, covid?] started soon enough and I was quite tech-savvy in comparison to the rest of my classmates. Whilst messing around in Zoom meetings for fun, I noticed that Madison and Natalie both often avoided joining classes. I'm not sure what clicked in me then, but I decided to join normally then use another tab to join with her name and ID. I attended the first few classes with my fake ID chaos-free, but soon I started cursing in private messages and insulting "my" friends to kind of ruin her reputation. And when that got boring, I switched to public messages and vulgar profile pictures. Why those profile pictures? You see, I noticed long ago that Madison was the one particularly freaking out when I drew women or men more "accurately", [If you know what I mean] And something in my mind screamed "She has a p//n addiction!!"

As it turns out, my crude prank actually pulled off and everyone started disliking her. And to put more salt on the wound, my assumption was correct and her mom later caught her red handed with the very dreaded "spice rice." I continued for a few more days after that, which I probably shouldn't have cause Riley is pretty smart and caught onto who was behind the scheme. I did deny though and somehow convinced her that it wasn't really me. Funny enough, someone actually started copying my tactics and did the same thing but with Natalie's name and ID. I didn't dare utter a word cause leaking my identity then would mean trouble.

This whole incident triggered some sort of domino effect and for some reason, plenty of classes had similar issues taking place. Trust me, I had no intention to influence others to hurt an innocent people because Madison deserved it but most victims didn't. Our school started having these account crackdowns soon after, but it was of no use because by then I was already MIA and back to my quiet girl school life. We also had these stupid Cyber-Security meetings with parents which I found completely useless and irritating. Our old principal was truly something, might even be a bigger douche-bag than Madison.

Whatever, she eventually left the school but nobody went to hug her except Natalie and her one other friend. [who broke off our friendship after Madison persuaded her to do so] They cried a lot but obviously no one gave a flying f//k and soon I started pursuing my life like normal. Ironically, I'm even friends with Natalie now and she apolgized multiple times, swearing she just did what Madison told her and never really noticed how badly it affected me. She wasn't even aware that Madison was that big of a b//ch and she always thought of her as simply "passive aggressive."

Oh well, years has passed since then. Sometimes I wonder how she's doing, if she's changed. But other days, I know these types of people never change. Perhaps she's left for good. I also wonder quite often if I was too harsh on her, but then I realize she was genuinely insufferable. The acts I mentioned were only a few things she did to me. She hurt others too, but enjoyed hurting me more because nobody defended me, I had more traits to pick on and I was too shy to complain to authorities. I hope you rot in hell after how you created my insecurities for life Madison, because unfortunately I'm not sorry at all.

-xoxo, thanks for reading this! [repost from r/revengestories]

/alaynawashere

The story you are about to read is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the not so innocent.

One night, Minion (my kid) had a friend over. They came to me and looked stressed, 

"Mom, someone is texting me crazy stuff and they described where the house is.

""Give me the number."

No one messes with my kid. No one should ever feel unsafe in MY house. 

 I'm not a coder or a hacker; I can barely run my laptop, but I am good at putting pieces together.

I entered the phone number in a reverse phone number lookup website on my phone, and got the address associated with the number. I checked out the house on street view on Google Maps. 

Before I added the number to my contacts, I took a screenshot of all the suggested accounts on Snapchat. I added the number to my contacts and compared. 

One name stood out: q_dawg$&@! <Fake name, please don't harass anyone, ever> I asked the kids,

 "Do you know anyone that lives on Smith Rd, <again fake address> with a first initial Q?" 

"It might be Quinn." <FAKE NAME>

Awesome. There was a risk that we were wrong, but the chances were, we were right. We live in a small town, with only one high school, it makes sense that it's a teen they know.

 I created a burner number on a messaging app, and texted,

"Hey Quinn, if you're going to prank text, do better. I know where you live."

Then I described his house.

“I'm sorry, sir.”

I didn't correct him. 

“Don't do that again, to ANYONE.”

I knocked on minion's door, cracked it a little, 

"We got him,” and told them what was said, “Let me know if he does it again."

Closed the door.

Through the door, I heard Minion's friend say. 

"Your mom is scary."

"For which trimester?" I responded to that question

Actually that wasn't even intentionally, as it was at the moment when a lot of classmates asked each other, what their's average note is.

That's became a joke of the class until the end of the school year :)))

does this count?

My body and I are currently in a delicate truce after four decades of armed détente. Between chronic pain, autism, and recent medication changes, I’m currently riding at the tippity top of the weight escalator.

​The result? I am burning alive. It feels like I’m trapped in a wetsuit made of extra flesh. Sensory-wise, I cannot handle pouring sweat, so my daily uniform when working with the public is a spaghetti-strap tank top and shorts.

​Enter the neighborhood modesty patrol! These comments come almost exclusively from older, judgmental women who love the passive-aggressive routine:

"Aren't you cold?"

"Did you leave the rest of your outfit in the car?"

​And my personal favorite: "Does your husband feel comfortable with you leaving the house like that?" (Apparently, daring to exist with visible collarbones and nipples is a public hazard.)

​So, I started turning it around on them with pure, wide-eyed distress:

​"Oh, I wish I needed a jacket! But ever since the hot flashes hit, I just can't. The hormones aren't helping, they hit out of nowhere, and I have zero control over my body anymore!"

​The shift is immediate and hilarious. The smug judgment instantly melts into horror, awkward solidarity, and sudden politeness. They don't know where to look, they backpedal fast, and suddenly they're treating me like a wounded soldier instead of a streetwalker.

Bonus points: It also works like a charm on the creepy dudes who operate on the logic that "fat chicks are easy" and assume I’m dressed for their benefit. Nothing kills an unwanted leer faster than deadpanning about torrential night sweats and erratic hormone spikes. How dare I dress for my temperature regulation issues instead of their open invitation!

--

​Maybe it’s not fully trauma, but watching the aesumptions vanish from their faces the second I weaponize phantom perimenopause is elite. Highly recommend!

So … I was volunteering for a fan-con this weekend and I help run the line access outside the venue.

It’s always chaotic because it’s tens of thousands of people over 3 days, so I expected chaos. Like of course that’s the deal.

What threw me this year is that a lot of ride share drivers and family members would just … temporarily park in the bike lane for pick up and drop off. All. Day. Long.

The sidewalk and the street are public domain so I can’t actually do a damn thing about it (and it was driving me crazy).

It came to a head when one cyclist, who was using the bike lane for its intended purpose, almost smashed into the back of a car who pulled in front of him to “drop off”.

Zero, and I mean zero, apology or acknowledgment occurred from the driver or the attendees getting out. And damn, that shit pissed me off. Like, at least wait until cyclists have passed. Just very much “I’m here to have my fun and others be damned”.

So I hatched a plan for all my future shifts over there.

Every time I was over there I would just stand in the bike lane. Like position my whole my body in the way (not very safe, wouldn’t recommend to others), and of course I’m surrounded by hundreds of witnesses. If a cyclist was coming, I’d just step to the side / back on the sidewalk so they could pass, and if cars came the driver would often reflexively pull back out because there is a human in their way.

It was still a long enough of a stretch where people could still manage pulling over where I wasn’t standing right there, so then I’d walk over and say “hey … this is a bike lane and we really need to keep this clear for cyclist traffic”.

And dang, the amount of attitude I got back was … off the charts. Well, don’t I know they paid for tickets to this con. Or, they are just trying to make a living doing rideshare. And I’m aware of these things and it’s relatable … but like, these things don’t entitle you to be inconsiderate or unsafe.

(Which by the way, there was a literally an inlet / outlet off this same stretch of road attached to the venue where they have could achieved the same result. They just couldn’t be bothered to use it??)

Anyway, so much rudeness and aggression, and really I’m just some nobody volunteer who doesn’t get paid for this. I just wanna keep people safe. And mostly I just say “i understand, just use the inlet because that’s its purpose” 🙃 most of them still ignored me and gave me a “hey, get fucked” type of look or said as much.

But, it did also occur me to that logical consequences may also work. So THEN I started saying matter-of-factly “hey well … if injured cyclists start collectively suing __Con, eventually there is no more of said con. Think about it. Your choice, pal”.

The look of perpetual dumbfoundedness just eclipsed any frustration I had. Like I just … loved watching the penny drop and people realizing “oh shit, me being selfish and potentially hurting uninvolved commuters could ruin my fun long-term??”

Granted, it’s kind of awful that that realization is what it was taking for some people to reconsider their actions but … hey a win is a win. “Fun” at others’ expense is not fun that is deserved. Don’t be an a-hole.

So I guess what I’m saying is … you can try to be kind or logical all you want, but sometimes you really have to just … traumatize them back. 🤷🏻‍♂️

My mom tried twice to make me open a “family joint account”. The first time I was 19 and working during a gap year to save up for college. Her plan was that the joint account would be fully funded via direct deposit of 75% of my paychecks and that she, mom, would have sole withdrawal privileges to, as she worded it, “take care of anything [her favorite child] needs”.

My response to her the first time she made this demand was to cackle like a demented goose and hang up the phone.

My response upon her second attempt about a decade later was a little more urbane. I said, “Why go to the hassle of opening a new account when we can simply use an account you already have set up with [one of my older siblings]?” She said, “But I don’t have an account with anyone else.” Whereupon, my default demented goose cackle was redeployed after which I once again hung up the phone without further comment.

My aunt would always blow on my cheek like I was still a baby. Whenever I’d see her she’d do it. So one day I did it back. She acted all surprised. 😂 I don’t think she’s done it back since. 😝

For context I am a 17 year old trans guy who doesn't always pass great because I'm super emo and have longer hair and wear makeup sometimes. This story happened when I was 14 and had only very recently come out.

Every year all the libraries in my area (i live in the UK) run a reading challenge over the summer. The goal is to keep kids reading during the summer holidays, the kids come in and can collect stickers for each book they read, get a medal at the end etc. They always need volunteers to help out talking to the kids, getting people signed up, all that stuff and I have been volunteering with them since I was 14.

This was my first year volunteering so I didn't have much experience and I was newly out so I didn't always know how to correct people. I got a lot of "Come on sweetie, lets ask the girl over here!" and "Why don't you tell her about the books you read?" despite having a pronoun pin (he/they) on. However I also got a lot of little kids asking if I was a boy or a girl, probably because of my longer hair/makeup but pretty masculine clothes and face (I do contour to make myself look more masc sometimes.)

I was volunteering one day, everything was going fine. Until Karen Mum (KM) and her Little Girl who was no older then about 6 (LG) walked in. They came over, KM was calling me she the whole time but I just tried to ignore it. Towards the end of the interaction (I was signing them up for the challenge I believe), LG asks me: "Are you a boy or a girl?" to which I start to say "I'm a boy" but get cut off by KM: "She's a girl." I correct her, saying "No, I'm a boy" and pointing to my pronoun pin. KM just scoffs and pulls her kid away into the children's section.

A little later, I'd say probably 15-20 minutes had gone by, LG comes toddling over again, KM a little way behind her looking furious. This is the conversation that followed:

LG: "are you a boy or a girl?"

Me: "I'm a boy"

LG: "Why does my mummy keep calling you a girl then?"

Me: "Uhm- I dunno maybe she's just confused?"

LG: "Yeah maybe... (thinks for a second) She keeps calling my big brother a girl too"

Me: "Oh-?"

LG: "Mmhm, she keeps calling him a girl still even though he's a boy now. Maybe she's broken"

I had to try so hard not to laugh that I probably would've literally crack a rib, if not for KM storming over and dragging her daughter away.

The funniest part? When you do the same shifts every week, you start to remember the kids who keep coming back and the books they like and such. I never saw these two again 🤣🤣

Anyways, best wishes to that accidentally badass kid and her big brother, hope they're doing well lol

EDIT: Holy crap what this blew up so quick! Thank you all so much for the comments, also this is my first Reddit award so THANKS SO MUCH TO THE PERSON THAT DID THAT!

EDIT 2: HOLY GOD WTF WHY HAS THIS BLOWN UP SO MUCH??? I am genuinely in shock. Never thought I'd ever have tears in my eyes from ppl on Reddit giving me awards/upvotes whatever but I do. Thank you guys so much!

So I had this job as a receptionist in a museum. I'm afab, identified as a girl at the time, and of course all of my coworkers were also girls. We also had security who, on the contrary, were all men. Most of them were older guys that were just minding their own business with an occasional "hi, how are you?" thrown our way.

But not this one guy. He was close to our age, painfully annoying and lowkey creepy towards us girls. Nothing too bad from what I remember, but, you know, just pestering us with unwanted conversations and compliments. Safe to say I didn't like the guy, but engaged with him out of politeness. Well, he didn't know it yet, but him trying to "flirt" with my autistic ass was a mistake.

This one evening I was sitting at the reception alone. Not at the main one (there were always several girls there), but we had this separate one inside the museum, in case the customers wanted to buy extra stuff. The evening is slow, so I'm just sitting there, minding my own business, deep diving on Wikipedia, as one does. And that guy comes up to me, all smiling, and strikes up a conversation.

Guy: - Hey, what's up?

Me: - Oh, nothing much, just browsing the web.

Guy: - Oh yeah? Anything interesting on there?

Me (barely paying attention): - Just some animal facts.

Guy: - Oh yeah? Like what? Bet it's something interesting.

Me (hyperfixation activated): - Oh, I'm actually looking up dolphins right now! Did you know that we perceive them as cute, but they are actually some of the most unhinged animals out there? Like, for example they kill fish for fun! And they also sometimes try to rape people. They also behead fish and use them as fleshlights! There are even videos on YouTube and everything.

I finally lift my gaze. Only to see his "heyyy girl" smile turn into a frozen helpless grin while his eyes are filled with confusion and terror. He replies something along the lines of "haha wow really ok I'll leave you to it then" and scurries off. Safe to say, he hasn't talked to me ONCE since that day.

Later I learned that he was quite a bit more creepy towards other girls, so while I genuinely didn't do it on purpose and was just being my neurodivergent self, I am SO satisfied with how I responded that day. I hope he remembers it to this day just like I do and thinks twice before trying to hit on women that clearly aren't interested. And now if I ever meet this type of guy again, I know what to do: just throw the weirdest and most uncomfortable facts that I know at them.

P.s. this story is years old, so the exchange itself is a little bit of a "reenactment" from memory. The words and reactions may have been a bit different, but the gist is the same.

Not me, but my bonus daughter.

Her father was picking her up from one practice or another and he had to walk inside to get her.

He’s a childhood cancer survivor and went through some extreme treatment during an era where they were still trying to figure out how to treat chemo, etc. It was incredibly traumatic for him and impacted every area of his growth and bodily development. He’s not a big guy and walks with a sway in his gait.

One of her teammates made a joke about his size, trying to make fun of him.

She replied with, “He’s small because he’s a childhood cancer survivor,” and just walked away as they tried to recover from her comment with their mouths open looking complete chagrined.

This isn't really all that dramatic, but I'm weird as hell, so I decided to just use that. And hopefully this gives you folks a chuckle. I have a pretty average and usually happy or neutral looking face, but if I try, I can put on the don't-f-with-me eyes.

I was at a grocery store a couple months ago and I saw these guys in white collared shirts going around an area of the parking lot talking to people with these big smiles on their faces.

I've seen those "do you have a moment to discuss our Lord and savior Cheesus Rice?" types before, but they've never been too pushy with me till today.

As usual I was sitting in my car on my phone for a few minutes before going in shopping. And then there was a tap on my window. "Sir, excuse me! Do you go to church?"

I was immediately annoyed. Like really? You're gonna bother me with religious crap through my closed window? I wasn't even out walking and I did not invite conversation with this guy.

So, maybe a bit of an overreaction, but I half did it out of annoyance, and half because I was thinking "ooh, I bet this might freak him out a little, heh heh."

I slowly, slowly turned my head from my phone to look out of my window, just enough that I was staring directly into his eyes through the top left corners of my own. Have you ever been given the corner eye before? I gave him full corner eye.

He stood there with his smile frozen for a few seconds. I turned back to my phone, thinking I'd made my point.

"Are you using the Discord app in there? I love Discord!"

I slowly turned and eyed him again, and I didn't look away. After about five seconds he just sort of sidestepped away from my car around the hood. I kept my eyes pointed at him (he was looking at me the whole time) until he was several feet away and had turned away from me.

I then got out and started shopping. I saw him and another guy talking to someone ELSE through their window (though thankfully this one was open). I went inside and while I shopped around, I told some people to watch out, that there were some weirdo religious guys out there. I didn't say fanatics; I don't think it was THAT bad. But that guy had definitely gotten on my nerves being just a touch too insistent on conversation.

As I walked back outside, I saw the one guy and one of his buddies hanging out by a white truck which I figured must be theirs, and I think a third one nearby was still talking to another customer.

I decided to screw with them one last time, and this is the part where I think I confused the hell out of them.

I started talking just a bit loudly (enough for them to hear me) into my phone in rapid-fire Swedish but in a Russian accent, and when they looked at me, I pointed at them and their truck, and pretended I was reading the license plate. I said the license plate number into the phone in the heavy fake accent, as though I was reporting them to the local police or something, and they looked just a bit unnerved.

Then I just got in my car and drove off.

Was I overdoing it? Of course I was. Don't be afraid to tell me, but just know I'm already aware.

I really just wanted to weird them out as much as possible since that's what they did to me. And I highly doubt a parking lot of grocery shoppers is the right place to try and convert people to Religioustianity.

If y'awll wanna discuss Jayzus, have fun. But don't be a pushy creep about it. No, I'm not using Discord, and you wouldn't have my account name or whatever if I was.

I haven't seen them since. Maybe they're at some campsite somewhere bursting into people's tents to ask them about their Facebook accounts.

To answer automod:

How was I "traumatized"? Bothered by a pushy religious something's witness or whatever he was.

How did I "traumatize" him back? By giving him deathkill eyes and pretending to be reporting him to something or someone by speaking rapid Swedish nonsense in a Russian accent into my phone while passing by them and their truck on my way out.

Huh, that sounds even weirder when summarized.

I grew up in a non-religious household that loosely held on to some Jewish traditions in a mixed-race family. I cannot count the amount of times I’ve been told I’m going to hell for not accepting Jesus as my savior.

As a 30 something adult I have received a few handwritten letters addressed directly to me at my home address trying to convince me to become a Jehovah’s Witness. The letters try to spark some uncertainty about death and the afterlife and such, which just feels manipulative.

The most recent letter included a phone number and a name. I called expecting it to go to the church’s main line so I could ask them to please stop sending letters, but the annoyed “who is this?!” seemed to indicate that it was someone’s personal number. I responded, “Hello???” She said, “I said WHO IS IT?!” I mentioned I got a letter from her. She said, “WHAT letter?!” I said “It’s signed Sister Your Name” and her tone immediately changed to a sweet sing-songy “Oooh yes that is me, does it say Jehovah’s Witness on there?”
I replied, “Yes it does, but I think I’ve changed my mind,” and hung up before she could respond.

This happened over a decade ago, but I still get immense satisfaction remembering the look on this man’s face, so I figured, why not share the story with Reddit?

Relevant info:
In my early 20s, I worked in a food court at a mall. Every day we would get a few Spanish speaking customers. Now, while I am part Mexican, my Spanish comprehension/speaking was struggling a bit. This became an even bigger struggle when the customer would talk fast. Now this wasn’t an issue, because I would either ask them to speak slower OR tell them I couldn’t speak Spanish. Either way, it was never a problem, until it was….

The incident:
I was working a particularly slow shift when a man approached the counter and immediately started talking to me in rapid fire Spanish. I couldn’t make heads or tails with what he wanted (and I admittedly had been dealing with some stressful stuff) so I just told him I didn’t speak Spanish. This man was PISSED! He went off on a rant about how I was an embarrassment, my family is ashamed of me, and I’m obligated to be fluent in Spanish.

Now this rubbed me the wrong way because while, yes I am Mexican, I’m also a variety of other ethnicities, so am I obligated to learn all these languages? It pissed me off that he was passing judgment on me based on assumptions. He didn’t know how I grew up or what my background was. He was one of those customers who was more than comfortable treating a fast food worker like low class shit and I was NOT in the mood to tolerate that.

So I decided to ask questions to point out how ridiculous the things he was saying were.

Me (looking befuddled): Hmmm, why would you say my family should be ashamed of me?

Him (getting more pissed by the second): Well, because you’re Mexican!!! You’re obligated to be fluent in Spanish!

More relevant information: A couple months ago a friend of mine swore up and down that I could pass for being Samoan. This comment shot into my head like a lightening bolt while he was yelling at me.

Back to the story:
Me: Sir, I’m not Mexican…I’m Samoan.

The look on this man’s face went from furious to one of pure shock and horror.

Him: Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought..

Me (cutting him off): Wait! I’m still confused…why am I obligated to learn Spanish again??

Him: I thought you were Mexican. I really respect your people’s culture. You guys have…

Me (cutting him off again): Hold on, why would that matter? What if a Mexican baby gets adopted by a Chinese family? Are they still obligated to learn Spanish or do they have to learn Mandarin? Or is it both? Your argument still isn’t making sense.

Him (looking more embarrassed by the second): I’m so sorry.

The aftermath:

After I sufficiently embarrassed this man he went on to put in his order (I was surprised because I would’ve been so mortified I would have wanted to run out of the mall at that point). My coworker who had witnessed this exchange was making loud, non-stop comments about rude people making assumptions while prepping his food. He just stood there head down. Defeated. He also gave me $5 as a “tip” (or as a gesture/apology more likely).

So yea, let’s not put people in a box, assume they grew up a certain way, and deserve to have specific expectations they have to live up to.