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Entitled Jerks At Their Worst

Samantha Henman

It’s really hard to believe that people go through life feeling this entitled—but sadly, it’s true. What’s even worse is when they trot out their terrible, rude behavior and make others suffer through it. These Redditors shared their stories of entitled jerks at their absolute worst, and they’re so infuriating that they’re impossible to forget.


1. The Audacity Of Having Your Own Life

This happened years ago, just thought about it. I was living in Colorado, had just had a baby a few months ago, am married, and have an autistic five-year-old. My husband works in the oil field, regularly gone between a week and three weeks, with no notice—though the money was good. My brother is one of those guys who believe women should always wear skirts/dresses, and have no opinion.

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His wife is cool with this. I, despite being raised with him, am not. I have a brain. At the point of this phone call, I hadn’t heard from besides a “congrats” text for months.

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He asks if I’m busy and I say no, what up? What he asked was so ridiculous, I nearly burst out laughing. He replies: “Can you come to Florida, take care of the kids and wife for a few months.

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We are moving and wife is pregnant. She can’t lift and the kids are wearing her out”.

I said: “You are joking, right? I have a baby, a five-year-old, and my hubby works in the oil field”. He says:

“Have friends help. I need you here”. I said no. What followed was a shocked silence—probably because he’s never had a female defy him. He said: “Then what good are you”? and hung up.

I didn’t hear from him again for roughly six months.

SchatziRed

2. You Had One Job

I own a restaurant. Recently, we’ve had a HUGE uptick in delivery orders, and so I’ve been hiring delivery drivers for the past month.

Saturday was the first day for one of these new hires, we’ll call her Jen. 22, blonde, in town for college, seemingly nice girl. 6 pm rolls around, she shows up for her shift. She’s there maybe 10 minutes when the first delivery order comes in.

Steak and two veg, plus a salad and a chicken wrap. Food is done, gets boxed up and put on the counter to be taken for delivery. Jen just stands there looking at it, so the other driver—we’ll call him Ron—picks it up and heads out. While Ron is out, we get another order.

4 deluxe double bacon cheeseburgers, 2 family-size fries, and 4 2XL milkshakes.

Food hits the delivery counter, and again, Jen is just sort of standing there looking at it. At this point, the general manager asks her what she’s waiting for. She says:

“I can’t deliver that, it’s got meat in it! I’ll pick up the next vegan meal that comes in”. Mind you, a solid 80% of our menu is meat. We’ve got some salads, some sides, and we do serve Impossible burgers (as well as Impossible meatloaf).

Still, most of the time, those get ordered along with other items that do contain meat. So the manager calls me, and I come up front. He explains all that I just relayed. I confirm with Jen that she refuses to touch any orders with meat in them, and then I send her home.

She won’t be on the schedule again. Ron and I handle the deliveries for the rest of the night.

Sorry lady, you can’t expect to be paid to just stand by the bar for five hours a day.

One_Percent_Kid

3. Now That’s A Long Distance Call

Almost 10 years ago, I saw someone lose their smartphone in real-time. I was driving behind her and saw it fly off the top of her car on a busy one-lane highway. It was a little dangerous, but I pulled over, waited for a break in traffic, and darted out to grab the phone.

It was miraculously unharmed. Her background pic showed a 20-ish redhead and a boyfriend.

I kept driving around doing my errands until her phone rang, about 30-40 minutes later. I told her where the phone had flown off the roof, how I retrieved it, and mentioned she must have put it up there while getting gas or something.

Her response? “Ok. Could you bring it here to me? I work at the pizza place”. I reply: “Uh, that’s nowhere near me. I’m half an hour away. You can pick it up here.

I’ll meet you at the Dunkin Donuts”.

Her, annoyed: “I can’t drive all the way there, I don’t know your town. Let’s meet halfway at this restaurant”. I say: “That’s not even remotely halfway.

That restaurant is still in your town. Want to just pick it up later”? She screams: “I don’t have time for this” and puts her boyfriend on the phone. He says, “Dude, what’s your problem.

Give her back her phone, already”.

This went on for a few minutes, her boyfriend getting “tougher and tougher”. I have zero tolerance for bad behavior, so I hung up on them and shut off the phone.

I was going to visit my grandfather the next day, so I kept the phone on me until then. When I got to granddad’s town, two hours away, I turned the phone on, called the girl’s father, and told him everything.

He was very apologetic, and I’m guessing it wasn’t his first rodeo.

I told him due to her rudeness (and boyfriend’s thinly veiled threats), the phone could now be picked up from local law enforcement in my grandad’s hometown. Dad’s response? “Looks like she’ll have a three-hour drive both ways this weekend.

Sorry again”.

5_Frog_Margin

4. Safety Last

I’m allergic to hand sanitizer, alcoholic wipes, generally anything that has an alcohol base. I even bring my own soap because I can have a reaction to some soaps. I can’t even drink the stuff without my lips swelling.

My old boss was my cousin, so when Covid hit I didn’t really have a problem until, my cousin got promoted and got transferred to a new office.

Enter our new boss. We got a mass email going over our new safety procedures and one of the new procedures is that we all have to use hand sanitizer and antiseptic wipes.

I sent an email to HR telling them about my allergies, with medical documents. They sent back saying that I don’t have to use the hand sanitizer and antiseptic wipes and that they put it in my file.

However, they then sent the exact email to my new boss. His reply was infuriating. He said that all employees have to follow the new safety procedures, with no exceptions. When I replied that if I use those products I will need medical attention, he then sent me another email saying that if any employee doesn’t follow the new safety procedures correctly that they would be fired.

I sent copies of the emails to our union rep and HR department to which they replied that they would talk to him and kinda told me to ignore him unless he tries to actually fire me.

So I go into work and my new boss is literally waiting for me at my desk with a bottle of hand sanitizer in his hands asking me to hold out my hands. I did reply saying “No thanks, I’d rather not go to the hospital today”.

What he did next was so twisted, it’s unforgettable. He got mad and literally grabbed my hand and squirted sanitizer on it, then rubbed it in. He then said “See, that wasn’t so bad”.

I tried to go to the bathroom to wash it off but he blocked me. Well, I had a bad reaction—thank god I had an EpiPen in my desk. My boss kept saying “I thought he was lying” until I was put into the ambulance, but I couldn’t hear him.

A member of HR department came to visit me in hospital—probably making sure I don’t sue—and informed me that he was fired. The woman from HR department also said that they called the authorities on my behalf and, I should be getting a visit from them soon.

Brave-Influence8972

5. If You Can’t Take The Heat…

While my brother Kyle and his friend Josh were surfing, Josh’s girlfriend Luna and I were sunbathing on the beach. It was hot and about a hundred degrees, so we were in bikinis.

We were talking about the usual stuff when I noticed some teenager, who looked like he was 15 or 16, watching us. Luna and I ignored him, but only until he started getting closer and closer to us.

Luna is short, but she’s incredibly muscular from working out hours every day, so she seems intimidating to a lot of people. Anyway, when the guy was too close for comfort (arm’s distance away from Luna and me), I asked if there was something he wanted from us, because he’d been watching us for at least 15 minutes.

The guy never looked at my face, just my chest.

Yeah, I was in a bikini, but I was covered. The guy’s mom (our Karen) came over to Luna and me at this point, then asked if we could cover up.

Luna looked at Karen with a “Really”? expression, and Karen had that entitled face. “It’s only fair. You’re distracting my son, and I’m afraid you’ll seduce him with your bimbo wear”. Luna and I looked to each other and burst out laughing.

I know it was kind of rude, but when would you hear “Cover up”! at the beach during a heatwave? Kyle and Josh came back to us, and Josh asked if everything was OK. Karen pitched a fit that Luna and I were seductive and flashing her son.

“Only in your son’s dreams, lady. We were not flashing your son”. Karen looked like she was going to smack Luna, so Josh stepped between them to keep them apart.

Kyle saw a patrolling cop on the boardwalk and waved him down.

The officer had red hair, like my brother and me. He waved to Kyle and me, then came over and asked if everything was alright, and if there was a problem. Karen looked smug. “These harlots were trying to seduce my baby boy!

Arrest them for exposing themselves to a minor”! The officer just looked from Kyle and me back to Karen.

What he said next was epic. “Lady, my cousin is not a harlot, your son isn’t a baby, and if you had any brains at all, you’d teach your son to respect women and not see them as ‘scantily clad objects’ during a heatwave.

By the way, do you see the ocean? We’re at a beach. My cousin can wear anything she likes”. Karen’s jaw dropped, then she grabbed her son’s arm and pulled him away while Kyle and me, Josh and Luna were just grinning.

I didn’t just soak up the sun, I basked in the awesomeness of my officer cousin!

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Entitled peopleShutterstock

6. Nightmare In First Class

So we’re heading out for a family vacation, flying first class for the first time. Our group has seven of the eight seats adjacent to the cockpit, with one rando seated amongst us.

And boy did we find a Karen. Right from the get-go, Karen made her presence known. We board with my father-in-law, who is in a wheelchair, to find that for some reason this lady boards the plane along with the “passengers that need additional time to board”.

Yet, she seems to be moving around just fine.

Seems her motivation to do so was to pack not only her overhead compartment with her multitude of carry-on items, but some of the adjacent one. Then the flight gets delayed for being short crew, and Karen immediately starts demanding a drink before we even leave the ground. As soon as the stewardess tells her no and walks off, she starts complaining to us about how terrible first class is with this airline.

And I’m already thinking, “Can you shut the heck up already”? Then comes the inevitable “We can just leave without the crew member, right”? Apparently, she wasn’t paying attention because the missing crew was the freaking pilot.

We were released back out to the terminal for a bit to stretch since the delay was so long, and we return to our seats to find my daughter’s seat occupied by Karen’s friend, who was flying economy.

After standing around and clearing our throats several times to try to get their attention, it is obvious they have no awareness of anyone outside their bubble. Finally, after myself, my daughter, and my mother-in-law all ask them to clear out they finally acknowledge that they’re in someone else’s seat.

After all this, we eventually get up in the air—but that doesn’t solve the problem. 

Cue Karen slamming back glasses of vino. After the third glass, she’s obviously already inebriated because she then dumped the entire fourth glass on my teenage daughter, and didn’t even acknowledge that she’d done it. No sorry, no “here’s a napkin”, she just immediately started demanding another drink from the flight attendant.

It’s worth mentioning, as my daughter told me later, that Karen immediately pocketed all the wet wipes, napkins, peanuts, and every freebie within reach. All the while she’s keeping her mask down while she is drinking, but the second I take mine off to drink some water this woman grabs my arm and starts demanding that I put my mask back on.

Are you serious?

Gonna complain about a mask but totally okay touching strangers? Ok Karen. At this point, I finally tell the stewardess about everything, and they stop serving her, but she still spends the rest of the trip complaining about how awful this airline is, trying to talk to my daughter the entire time who is legitimately worried this moron is going to puke on her.

Poor kid.

Mother-Dimension876

7. The Metric System Doesn’t Care About Your Entitlement

So this was a few years ago when me and my wife (both Mancunian) were doing a mini world tour as part of our honeymoon. We were in Iceland and had been really disappointed to find out that the blue lagoon is manmade and is basically just a large outdoor swimming pool of water runoff from the geothermal plant.

So after some light googling we found a place about an hour and a half drive from Reykjavik called the Secret Lagoon.

The place is amazing and exactly what I expected from a natural hot spring, basically a large pond pouring with steam, a river running next to it also pouring with steam, and then a load of smaller bubbling pools of water and mini geysers that would blast water into the air every 10 minutes or so.

The place is on somebody’s land and they’ve built changing rooms and a shower area and charge about £12 to get in.

Between the pond and the river there is a roped-off area of small, deep pools that has a sign saying “Warning, water is over 90 degrees. Do not enter at your own risk,” which is probably a bad translation of no entry, we accept no liability. Anyway me and my wife were leaning against the side of the pond closest to this and notice a guy wander up, read the sign then step over the rope.

As he’s walking up to one of the small pools the lifeguard is running over and shouting, “Stop stop, you can’t go in there,” then American accent replies: “Whatever buddy, I can do whatever I want”. By this time the lifeguard has reached him and tries to explain to him that the water is “between 90 and 110 degrees” and that he walked right past a do not enter sign, to which the American responds: “No, it says enter at my own risk, so I am, and it’s not very risky, it’s hotter than 90 degrees in Nevada every day”.

This utterly perplexes the lifeguard, who has absolutely no idea what the heck the American is talking about. So I shout over “Oi mate, it’s Celsius not Fahrenheit”. Now the American looks confused and says, “I don’t know what that is, I’m going in”. For reference, 90-110c is 194-230f.

Then follows about five more minutes of arguing between the American and the lifeguard before the American obviously thinks forget this.

He takes the two steps further to the pool and goes to put his foot in.

Fortunately for him but unfortunately for Darwinism, he only manages to dip a toe before screaming in pain and hopping back to the changing room in a huff. Lifeguard sighs and goes back to his chair.

What an idiot.

Mammyjam

8. What’s Mine Is NOT Yours

I was on the government waiting list for a house/flat for over eight years when I got a call asking me to go to a viewing. I went to see the flat, it had a small bedroom, a tiny bathroom and sitting room and a kitchen.

It wasn’t much but it had CENTRAL HEATING!! (My old place was one room with high ceilings and no heating) I took two seconds to think about it and signed the lease.

A week later I got my keys and started moving a few things in.

My “friend”, who I’d stay with sometimes on the weekend, wanted to come by to see the place before I moved everything in. She lived up the street from me now so I told her to come and take a look.

She walked in and started telling me how I was going to repaint and decorate. Huh?!? And it continued on like this.

First, she said the bedroom should be Hello Kitty themed. I said no. Then, she said the bathroom should have racy Victorian wallpaper.

Again, I said no. Then, she said: “You’ll also need to change your bedcovers every Friday by 5 pm and you can’t use your bed until Sunday night/Monday morning, depending on when we leave”. What?

Did I miss something?

That’s when it all became clear. She said: “Well you know how much I hate my housemate”. Side note: he’s a good friend of mine. She continues: “Well, my boyfriend and I hate seeing him so we’re going to take your place from Friday until Sunday, and you can sleep at my place on the sofa. We need somewhere nice and private to sleep without my nasty housemate.

You’ve slept on my sofa before, it’ll be fine”.

She gives me this obnoxious, huge grin and followed it with “Or we could move in here and pay your rent and you can sleep on my sofa and pay my rent”. Hers was not a government flat and she paid at least 10x more rent for her place.

I put up with her ranting about how she was going to “properly decorate” for a couple of minutes.

She was sure to tell me not to move anything else in until she could inspect it and see if it was on her approval list before it came into the flat.

Needless to say, I kicked her out and blocked her number, social media, etc. She spent a while badmouthing me but thankfully enough people knew how crazy she was and probably still is.

AnSplanc

9. First-Class Pain In The Butt

We were on a flight from Miami to Bolivia as a family of five with three kids under 12.

We’re getting on the flight, sitting down, when this entitled woman and her husband come up to my row. I’m sitting in the same row as my brother and sister. They say: “Excuse us, you’re in our seats”. All three of us have all been well versed in child travel by this time so we pull out our individual boarding passes and show her that we’re also assigned these seats.

They insist that we’re wrong and demand to see the passes. We don’t give them over. My dad comes over to see why strangers are talking to his children:

“Excuse me, why are you talking to my kids”? “They’re in our seats, look”. My dad says: “That’s their assigned seat, they know how to read a boarding pass”. By this time, we have attracted the attention of the flight attendant.

She confirms that indeed, those seats had been double-booked. The couple are irate, demanding their assigned seats. The flight attendant leaves to go “see what I can do for you”. This whole time, the woman is making a big show of trying to store her bag in front of ours in the overhead bins and complaining loudly.

The attendant returns and says: “Thank you so much for your patience. It was double booked, but it looks like we have enough seats in first-class available for your party. If you could please follow me”?

They sigh, relieved that finally SOMEONE will see reason.

Well, the joke was on them. The flight attendant holds up her hand. “No sir, not you. If you three (looking at me and my siblings) will please join us up in first class, we’ll make sure you’re taken care of”. The lemon-sucking look on the woman’s face as we politely grabbed our bags and moved to the coziest laps of luxury our young selves had the fortune of lucking out on was unforgettable.

I remember the meal making me have a headache, but the reclining seats, warm blankets, and sleep masks sure helped with all that suffering.

Netflixnschill

10. Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes

When I was a kid I never cut my hair, no matter what I never cut my hair, so I had very long blonde hair. And as a kid, a lot of people would ask to touch it.

And I was fine with it, as long as they had my permission. So when I was six, my mom took me to a grocery store to buy some things for dinner that night. We got to the store and my mom got the stuff she needed, but was missing the bread from the other side of the store.

She sent me to go get it since I was fast and small. When I got to the bread, I picked out the brand we would usually buy, and at the time I really liked baguettes and other types of bread.

So when I saw the baguettes, I totally forgot that my mom was waiting for me and grabbed a loaf()? and headed back to my mom. When I was heading back to my mom from the bread aisle, I felt someone pull on my hair.

Not gently, no, they yanked it.

They pulled so hard I thought my hair what going to come out. And I cried so hard my mom heard me across the store. I turned around in shock.

It turns out it was a kid about my age who wanted to touch my hair, so his MOM, and I say his 40-YEAR-OLD MOTHER, pulled my hair so her friggin’ kid could touch it.

My mom rushed over and told the lady to let go of me.

The conversation then went like this: “Let my daughter go”! “My child just wanted to touch her hair, she has very pretty hair”. Me:

“She pulled on my hair, it hurts”! My mom: “You could’ve just asked! You can’t just pull a kid’s hair, I can call 9-1-1 for assault”! Her: “You are harassing me, all I did was let my son touch her hair!

I can call the authorities on you for harassing me and my child”!

My mom: “Firstly, I am not harassing you, you grabbed my child. And secondly, you can call the authorities. You will only be making things worse for yourself”. She was absolutely right.

As it turns out, the entitled mom DID call the authorities and they took both our statements. The entitled mother had given an over-exaggerated and dramatic report, telling the officers, as we would find out later, that I had given consent for her kid to touch my hair and my mom had come out of nowhere and started harassing the entitled mother.

My mother had given the officers the actual report from her side. I had been asked to give a report, but I was too scared and tired from the experience to say much.

They checked the security footage and saw what actually happened. In the end, she got what was coming to her. My mom decided to press charges and sued the entitled mom for assault.

She was sent away for six months and fined for providing a false report as the cherry on top!

Le_Phoenix_Friez

11. Turns Out Indentured Servitude Isn’t OK

My wife and I had just immigrated back to the US and needed jobs and a place to stay. We thought we’d struck gold when a fabulously wealthy woman hired me as a groundskeeper and maintenance guy and my wife as a cook and maid for her elderly parents.

The pay was low, but part of it involved being able to live rent-free in the second house on the estate.

The elderly couple was extremely senile, but still the sweetest old folks you can imagine, it was a really nice property so for a few months, everything was great.

Then about three months in, my wife noticed the pantry—which was itself bigger than our living room—was not being re-stocked by the grocery delivery company that normally did these things.

We contacted our employer—and her reaction was bone-chilling. She flew into a rage that managing that sort of thing was our responsibility so she had canceled the delivery service without telling us.

It became apparent that she fully expected us to notice and take care of it ourselves. When I asked her how she expected us to buy groceries for her parents when she didn’t even tell us she had canceled the service, she became extremely irate.

Direct quote: “Then what do I sign a check to each of you every week for”?! Yeah. This woman earnestly thought we should be using our personal paychecks, which were NOT very big, to pay for her parent’s upkeep. After much deliberation, she begrudgingly left us a credit card to go out and buy groceries for her parents, which added to our workload at no extra pay, but we didn’t have anywhere else to stay and no other job lined up so we just dealt with it.

Well, another few months go by and she contacts us again, she wants us to sign something. The paperwork shows up and it’s requests for medical documentation from an insurance company. The chick wants us to attach our timesheets to it, sign it, and send it back to the insurance company.

Well, I read it and it becomes apparent she has elder-care insurance to pay for live-in nursing services and has told them we are nurses so she can try to get them to pay our wages.

I contact her and inform her that we have not provided medical care, are not licensed to, and will not fill out the paperwork. Cue the mother of all tantrums. Karen goes nuts screaming into the phone about how much she has done for us and we owe her, how she will report that we are neglecting her parents, and then call immigration on us and have us “sent back to where we came from”.

I don’t think she ever realized I am a citizen and my wife immigrated legally.

I tell her that what she is asking us to do is against the law, and that I’d rather get fired than get caught. I tell her she has 90 days to find a replacement for us and we will be moving out.

Things devolve into her screaming about how much money she has and how she is besties with the authorities and has a bunch of expensive lawyers to sue me with.

I suggest she asks one of those lawyers how they feel about defending her for defrauding the insurance company and hang up.

My wife and I continue our services for the old folks while looking for a new place, because they were actually super nice and the situation wasn’t their fault. They were also VERY senile, mistaking us for other people they knew, forgetting they had kids, etc.

etc., so they can’t be held accountable for their daughter’s behavior as they lack any ability to intervene.

Then, instead of a paycheck, I get a bill for the last eight months of rent and a note that she isn’t paying our wages until we “pay her back for everything we owe her.

Plus interest”. She had valued the rent of the second house provided in our contract at more than she paid us monthly, so we’d never actually be able to pay it off. Yeah.

This woman actually tried to make us into indentured servants. So, without responding I continue performing my duties.

I studiously kept logs on our hours, and retained all the “receipts” for how much more we owed her. 90 days go by without a paycheck. We purchased groceries using the card she provided, which she added to our “debts”.

We document EVERYTHING. That’s when we really began to enact our plan. About a week before the 90 day, we contact two government agencies. First, the state department of labor to report exploitation, second, adult protective services to inform them that an elderly couple that requires caretaking are going to no longer have caretakers and that their daughter has refused to provide it.

Then we call her and inform her she is going to be receiving some phone calls from these agencies shortly and should probably contact her attorney. There was about a 60-second silence on the phone, then this deranged laughter, and she hung up. Okay…not the response I expected but whatever, one more week, and we’re gone.

Eight hours later she shows up in the driveway in a rental car. This woman bought a one-way plane ticket to come out to the estate and report us to the authorities for trespassing on the property. This, of course, doesn’t work because we have a tenancy contract and if she wants us gone she has to utilize the official eviction process.

She then tries to claim we are aliens, which a quick glance in our wallets at our IDs by the authorities proves false. She is starting to shriek at them about if they know who she is or how expensive her lawyers are.

The officers look that unique combination of irritated and amused. They advise her not to talk to us or attempt to enter or go near the guest house.

She moves in to their house that night and presumably takes over our duties.

I would go out on the balcony every day for the week before I left to drink my coffee, and smile as I stared across the big, luxurious lawn to see her standing in the picture window, arms crossed, glaring at me.

To make a long story short, the expensive lawyers she has convince her to pay our back wages with additional interest for violating state labor laws by withholding them.

Vict0r117

12. Standing Up For The Little Guy

I was in line at Costco Gas.

The lines are nuts because gas prices are nuts and Costco gas is cheap and convenient. Everyone is on edge. The Costco gas employees have to periodically sweep the lanes and clean up spilled gas.

Just like at the registers when they close a line they stop people from lining up in that lane.

They finish the people currently in the queue and direct other customers into different lanes so they can cone off the lane and sweep.

I’m pumping gas and see this go down. A woman drives around the cones and into the lane they are sweeping like she’s exempt from the process and is going to get gas. Employee guy jogs over and tells her in a normal tone, “Sorry ma’am, this lane is closed for the moment, can you please pull around into a different line”?

She says “Why”? He says “This lane is closed… (sees an empty spot not yet filled in the adjacent lane) you can go there”. And points.

She starts screeching “You don’t have to talk to me that way! I don’t appreciate! Screech screech screech”! A guy gets out of the passenger seat. Employee guy is babbling and pointing and waving, points at cones, empty lane, broom.

Screeching lady turns into cursing lady and starts dropping expletives about how he can’t treat me this, and effing that. Passenger guy gives employee the finger. Employee is looking around because he’s in over his head. Cursing lady starts with the “Your manager is going to hear about this, you just lost your job, screech screech”! Gets in the car and peels out leaving.

I knew what I had to do. 

I finish pumping and go find a place to park. I google the store phone number and call. I hit the number to speak with a manager. I ask for the manager in charge of the gas station.

“Sorry, he’s gone for the day. Can I leave a message”? Uhm… “Ok, can I tell you then? I just saw this whole thing go down. In a minute you’re going to get a call from a lady claiming she was just disrespected by a gas employee and complaining a storm. Let me tell you what actually happened from an objective observer because no way this guy did anything wrong and it’s going to come down to his word versus crazy lady”.

They replied:

“Ok, thank you for the heads up, it’s nice to hear he was doing the right thing, and oh, actually your lady is on the phone with this other manager right here it sounds like, and I’ll pass along your message. Thanks for calling”.

TanakaKatamari

13. The Best Revenge Is Petty

My mother-in-law is very entitled.

She visits and plops herself on the couch and expects us to wait on her hand and foot. The couch may as well be her throne. I had told my wife I had one rule for her visit:

no news. I can’t stand having the news on. It’s nothing but things crafted to get you angry or afraid. My mother-in-law was informed of this multiple times.

However, she insists she can’t live without knowing what is going on.

As soon as we go to put my daughter to bed, I hear the news on. That’s when I decided to get petty revenge on her. My TV is controlled by Google Home. My phone is tied into the system so acts as a home unit.

I tell it to turn off the TV. She puts the TV back on. I turn it off, she turns it back on. I then go into the FIOS app and block news channels.

She does something I didn’t realize that could be done and had Google turn on CNN on YouTube, but she doesn’t know the difference though between the TV and the YouTube feed so…cue pettier revenge. I use the app to pause the playback.

My wife is now trying to laugh quietly. She waits a few minutes, has Google start it again and I immediately pause the playback so she again has a frozen screen.

She is screaming about how the TV is frozen, so I shout down it must be the storm we are having and the cable is down.

It gave me such a warm fuzzy feeling.

Taloncard815

14. One At A Time, Please

My stepbrother and his girlfriend of three years were getting married. His girlfriend just happens to be my best friend, so I was extremely excited for them.

I was chosen to be the maid of honor and my biological brother was the best man. We were all that close—except for one other person in the wedding party. That would be my stepbrother’s best friend. He’s the worst guy I’ve ever met.

I never really liked him because he was a total creep and always tried to hit on me when my stepbrother wasn’t there. My stepbrother is quite protective, so I never told him—if I had, he would have been absolutely furious. Also, I can stand up for myself.

Anyway, once this friend FINALLY got a girlfriend he stopped annoying me. Well…temporarily.

During the planning of the wedding, nothing crazy happened apart from the normal wedding stress. We invited almost everyone we knew.

It was going to be great—or so we thought. The big day arrives and everyone is ecstatic. The ceremony was beautiful and everything went wonderfully. Then the reception came. It got off to a good start—then it took a turn.

The groom and bride plus the bridesmaids and groomsmen were all seated at a table at the front of the venue, while the guests were sitting in front of us, so they were facing our table.

Everyone was giving speeches and enjoying the food. Then, out of nowhere, my stepbrother’s best friend stands up, takes the mic, and says he has something important to say.

We’re all confused, as he had finished his speech, but let him talk.

I wish we hadn’t. He asks his girlfriend to come up to the table. I already knew where this was going. He starts a speech about how much he loves her and how they were meant for each other.

She’s smiling but I think she didn’t want this to happen NOW, of all the times.

He then kneels down and pull a ring out of his pocket and asks her to marry him.

She say yes. They start running around showing people the ring all the while the bride—my best friend—looked like she was going to cry. My stepbrother and brother were whispering to each other.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Finally, my mom gets up to remind everyone that this was her son’s wedding and that we should stop talking about someone else’s engagement.

Everyone was quiet.

Suddenly, we hear this banshee scream. The girlfriend started screaming and crying saying MY MOM HAD RUINED HER SPECIAL DAY. Then my stepbrother’s “best friend” began screaming at us too, claiming that he did nothing wrong. They got kicked out in the end.

My brother lost his best friend that day—but he didn’t really care. That idiot lost all his friends.

Lemon123-

15. Karens Gonna Karen

My wife needed a few things from the grocery store and on this particular day I happened to be available and I offered to go for her.

She works hard and does a lot, so I definitely felt it was necessary to do something for her so she could just relax for the day. I took my stepson with me so she could rest up and just take it easy.

I thought it would give me time to spend with him for some bonding—but instead, we both got an afternoon we’ll never forget.

We completed all of the errands, which went smoothly, and then headed to the grocery store to finish up our day.

My son, being a typical four-year-old, was full of energy running ahead of me laughing and speaking to everyone he comes across, which I generally don’t mind as long as he doesn’t hit anyone and stays within eye view. As I’m making my way down an aisle looking for canned corn, my son jogs to the end of it when an older lady is entering at the other end.

My son, being the sweet social butterfly he is, approached and exclaims an excited “Hi! Me four and me Ryan”! Bless his little heart.

The lady looked down and says “Well hello there. You shouldn’t be running around unattended, let’s go find your parents”. I didn’t think anything of her statement because I assumed she just hadn’t seen me.

“Ryan! Come back here bud, please”! He excitedly runs back toward me and starts turning in circles because you know, he’s four lol. I’m still searching the shelves as the lady walks past me and stops behind me. Again I think nothing of it because it’s a grocery store and you have to share the aisles. I turn my basket around and start to walk toward the front cash registers when this lady literally blocks my path.

I say excuse me and try to walk around her and she moves her cart in front of me again. I honestly thought she was just getting confused and said excuse me once again and tried one more time to go around and she just blocks my path.

The following conversation ensues. Me: “Um, sorry about that, we’ll get out of your way”. Lady: “Oh, I don’t think so! You’re not going anywhere with that child”!

Me: “You mean my son”? Lady: “That’s not your child! He’s white! And you’re Mexican. You probably didn’t even know his name until he said it to me”! Me: “Sure, whatever lady, can you just move?

My wife is at home and anxiously awaiting for us”. Then, she upped the ante. She said: “Stop your lies. You’re not taking him anywhere, you pervert”!

This whole time my son is standing close to me holding my leg because he was honestly getting scared.

I was getting angry because I hadn’t had much sleep and I have a short fuse anyway. Me: “As you can see he’s standing close to me because he trusts me and you’re scaring him so how about you buzz off”? Lady: “No! He’s scared because of you! He just doesn’t know how to express it yet”.

She looks at my son.

Lady: “Come on now sweetie, I’m here to rescue you. Come with me”. Thankfully my son was able to communicate to her he wasn’t going anywhere with her. But she was having NONE of it.

I still get mad when I think of what she did next. She literally grabbed my son and began to run. It caught me off guard because I honestly could not fathom what was actually happening.

My son starts screaming loudly because he was so scared and this lady is just like “Don’t worry sweetie he won’t hurt you I promise”! Suddenly I snap back into reality and I begin to chase after this crazy witch.

While running through the store, I yell for people to stop her and that she’s kidnapping my son and thankfully a worker stops her before she makes the exit.

Lady: “Why are you stopping me?

This Mexican here is trying to take my grandson”! My son literally is bawling his eyes out and extending his arms out calling for me. This lady was relentless and would not let go until my son even after he slapped her face multiple times.

I laughed a little, not gonna lie. At this point, a manager shows up and asks what’s going on.

The lady spoke before me, saying: “This (pointing at me) pervert is kidnapping my grandson and I was just trying to escape”! I said: “That’s my son you freaking psycho. Now let him go”. The manager didn’t know what to believe. I don’t blame him, he was caught in a weird situation. So I pulled out my phone and showed him pictures of me and my son that dated a year or so back as proof.

Her response was infuriating.

This lady still would not give up and accused me of faking them. Like how would you do that exactly? I’ll never know, but whatever. Sadly, there were two other ladies there taking the psycho’s side and said I was attempting to take my own son because there was no way we were family because of our different skin tones. One even called the authorities, which I was actually happy about because I knew they’d be able to review the security cameras.

Even still, I called my wife to see if she could come to the store to get this situation cleared up quicker.

As soon I told her what was going on, she zoomed to the store. She got there about the same time as the officers. The crazy ladies were giving their statement to the officers when my wife walked in. As soon as she walked in, my son goes “Mama help”! My wife is a true mama bear and she immediately flew into a rage when she saw this lady holding my son.

She yelled: “Let him go NOW”! The lady said, “Sorry sweetie, I was just trying to protect him from this pervert over here”. Another one piped up, “Yeah we saw him kidnapping him but this lady saved him”! The cop looks at the lady and is confused.

He asks: “I thought this was your grandson”? My wife said: “I have no idea who that lady is”.

She takes out her phone and shows the officer a picture of my mother-in-law. Finally, the lady fesses up.

“Okay, I’m sorry he’s not my grandson but I was only trying to protect him from this dirty pervert over here”! The other lady said, “Yeah I witnessed the whole thing, he snatched that child and tried to run away with him but this lady stopped it”!

As if that wasn’t bad enough, there was another one. She said: “Yes I saw it too.

He needs to be taken away. And you (pointing to my wife) should be thankful that this lady was here to save your son because you obviously just let him loose wherever”! My wife says:

“Who are you talking about again”? All three crazy ladies pointed at me. My wife replies: “Oh you mean my husband”?!

The ladies were shocked. They said “Husband”?!?! My wife said, “Yeah who do you think called me and got me here so fast”?! I presented my ID to the officer and the manager and my wife did the same.

We also each showed pictures of us on our phones to prove we were really a family. The cop nodded in approval and handed us our phones back and jotted down a few notes.

The three ladies for some reason still kept trying to say this was all fake and my wife was in on the kidnapping and said we needed to be detained. My wife lost it at this point and let off some colorful words I won’t repeat here but she definitely got her point across. Then the nail in the coffin came for the psycho trio. The office turned to the manager and asks:

“Sir, do the cameras work here”? The manager says yes, and the officer asks to review them.

The three ladies’ faces went pale. Like ghostly pale. The officer reviewed the outside camera as I pulled into the parking lot and saw me take my son out of my car and then as I went up and down the aisles and most importantly the instance the woman snatched up my son and began to run.

Upon his return, he asks “Would you like to press charges”? The lady pipes up: “Yes I would”!

The officer’s reaction was brutal. He looked at her and said: “Why would I be asking you that question?

Shut your mouth and sit down”. He turns to me and repeats the question. I said absolutely. Lady one was charged with attempted kidnapping, false imprisonment, providing a false report, and child endangerment. The other two were also charged with providing a false report as well.

To make matters worse for the first lady, my son bruises easily and she left some terrible spots on him from where she was grasping him—but he’s fine! This added a charge of child abuse to her rap sheet. The officer will be following up with me in a few weeks.

1SL1KK1

16. Out Of The Flowerbed And Into The Fire

Because the groundhog had no shadow, spring came early, so I had decided to work on the garden strip that borders mine and Karen’s property. There’s a fence between the garden and her house.

While doing so, I get rid of some of MY daylilies that are on MY property. I finish, return to my house and continue my day, until I hear a shriek from the side of my house.

I rush over, because I’m scared someone got hurt, and Karen, who just got home from work, asks me why I got rid of HER lilies.

I say that they were MY lilies, and that I was making space for tomatoes, cucumbers, and carrots. She then calls 9-1-1 because I had destroyed HER property. The authorities come and basically tell her to go inside and shut up, because it’s pretty clear who’s flowers they were.

But it didn’t end there. The next day she had a few too many.

This put her anger over the edge about the loss of my lilies. She went, with wood and a firestarter, to my neighbor’s house on the opposite side. She then lit their bins on fire.

This then spread to their porch, and before long their entire house was on fire.

I’m a light sleeper, and living in a cul-de-sac, was woken up by the orange haze floating through my windows.

I called 9-1-1, the whole shebang, witness report and everything. I walked out of the house, with 9-1-1 still on the phone—and I couldn’t believe what happened next. The deranged neighbor fully confesses, all while they’re in earshot.

After a while and as the fire department shows up, she realizes her mistakes.

One: she lit a house on fire, and two: she lit the wrong house on fire. She’s being charged with arson and the like, and everyone got out. There’s a mother, father, and two kids who are high schoolers. It still feels surreal.

AnotherGuiltyWitness

17. Blood Isn’t Always Thicker Than Water

I’m an IT engineer with terrible family relationships. I did cut off my father and my uncles and aunts, yet I keep in contact with my cousins and their children, who somehow I treat as mine.

I had none and I’m an only child, therefore they’re the closest I got. I always prioritized success over relationships so I’m single, and through the years I felt that my cousins’ children weren’t mine therefore I wanted to raise one of my own.

It took me some time, but finally, I adopted an 8-year-old kid, as those usually age out of foster care. I love the experience of raising a kid, yet I have had to deal with some entitled behavior from my cousins.

Every now and then I spend some money traveling with my cousins and their children, yet this year, for obvious reasons I need to save money in order to get all of the stuff my son would need.

I’m planning on going big and getting the best of the best that I could afford. I just explained this to my cousins and told them this year our trip together will be canceled.

They said nothing so I thought they understood the whole situation. Anyway, I wanted my kid to socialize with my cousins’ children so I invite them all to a get-together party (after about two months, when my son felt comfortable enough).

Somehow, all of the kids were so mad and refused to play with my kid. He just sat in a corner and tried to not cry, but he did. I talked with the kids and they said he was not part of the family and they deserve more, as he is adopted and they, as my family, were entitled to the trip to the parks in Florida.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was in total shock, but managed to ask them where they got that from.

They told me how their parents have told them the reason why I took away their trip was my son, who comes from the streets and isn’t even family.

I was fuming, so I told them all to leave. I had a Zoom meeting with just my cousins who all told me that their children must come first, and I told them they made me realize my son comes first, so I canceled their college funds, their private school tuitions, and just told them that if my kid is not part of their family, neither am I.

I cut them all off. I have been called unreasonable, but I think my son comes first and I made the right decision.

alex_moreno794

18. Should’ve Laid Off The Bottle(s)

One day last week when I came home from work, I noticed my shed door was open and the padlock that I used to keep it shut was broken.

And I had a LOT of bags full of soda cans in there. Me and my friends tend to drink a lot of soda, so I’ve built up a lot of cans over the course of about a year.

And I was going to cash them in at the bottle drop soon, because I like big payouts. It’s ten cents a can where I live after all.

But there was more than just my bags of cans missing from the shed too.

They took my gardening shears, a steel rake, two shovels, a full two gallon gas can, a cheap power drill I got for like $5 used, an electric hedge trimmer, and a small electric chainsaw that was also used, and a machete.

They didn’t touch the lawn mower, weed whacker, extension cords, or the old radio I had in there.

No idea why they took what they did, but I guess they figured they could resell them or something.

I checked my camera footage to see if I caught anything—and I made a disturbing discovery. There was my three nephews (ages 16, 15, and 14) breaking into my shed with one of their dad’s large claw hammers.

I recognized the hammer because it’s bright yellow and black, and their dad has a bunch of them.

It only took them a few hits to smash that cheap lock. After they first broke into my shed, they took what they could by hand.

And then they came back with some shopping. It took them a few trips to get all of the cans. And they didn’t bother to even try and close the door when they were done.

My sister and brother-in-law first denied their kids took anything from me.

So I went to their house and showed them the security footage from my cameras. I never told them I’d had cameras installed—and there’s a sad reason why. This wasn’t the first time my nephews robbed me. It started with food & snacks.

And then moved on to DVDs and video games. Then pretty much anything they thought they could smuggle out after that.

Any time I made them return stuff they’d stolen from me, I was treated like the bad guy and then got the fakest apologies I’ve ever heard.

And they never got in much trouble from their parents either. The final straw happened last year when my nephews broke into my house and took three six-packs of my favorite blood orange ale from my fridge.

But that’s not the worst part. They used my hidden spare key to get in, and also took a huge dump in one of my bathrooms and not only didn’t flush, but also peed all over the floor.

And I’m pretty sure it was intentional. The drinks they took were hidden in one of their bedrooms when I confronted my sister and brother-in-law about my nephews stealing it.

I was basically given an equivalent excuse to “Boys will be boys” when I wanted them punished.

So I had the cameras put in and told no one. Which was a smart move. When my sister and brother-in-law saw the camera footage of my nephews stealing from me, they seemed furious. But they were actually madder that their boys skipped school to rob me.

They’d spent all day making repeated trips to the Bottle Drop and cashing the cans by machine.

The bottle drop also pays by machine. So they just kept bringing the cans in till they cashed them all. And then they bought video games and junk food with the money. Said money actually amounted to nearly $200.

With that and the destroyed padlock, I told my sister and brother-in-law that they now owed me $200.

My sister and brother-in-law went from being angry at their kids to making excuses for them, and then being angry at me for wanting that money back when I know they have three kids and a mortgage.

I said it was either that or I go to the authorities and press charges. They told me to get out, and I said they have two days to decide how to pay me back before I go to the authorities.

I got back everything else my nephews took, machete and gas can included. Though they’d already used the gas for something.

But over the next couple of days, my sister and brother-in-law were blowing up my phone with a ton of messages. Both verbal and text. At first they were calling me heartless because it was right after the holidays and they have three kids and a mortgage.

Then they started gaslighting me—and even threatening me. And all of this would go in a repeating cycle. My nephews chimed in from another cell phone and were sending me lots of messages of their own.

Which were more fake apologies and gaslighting. My eldest nephew even sent me a picture of himself holding a soda can and giving me the middle finger.

So I guess they weren’t taking my threats of going to the authorities seriously because “FAAAAMILY”!. When I last spoke with my sister and brother-in-law, they refused to negotiate any sort of method of repayment for what my nephews did.

Even when I suggested they just sell the video games that were purchased with the money from the cans.

Then they had the audacity to say I’d actually tempted my nephews by having the cans in my shed to begin with.

Oh yes. I’m the devil snake that tempted my nephews with a shed full of cans that just screamed “MONEY MONEY MONEY”! So that was it. I went to the station that morning and filed the report.

Gave them a copy of the video footage of my nephews stealing from my shed.

I gave them the broken lock they smashed. Showed them all of the texts, which were screen-capped and also given as evidence.

 Heck, I even gave them a copy of the photo my eldest nephew sent me of him flipping me off. I did tell officers that I found it worrisome that my nephews had taken the machete. But they classified it as a tool.

Especially since they took a lot of other actual tools. So fair enough on that, I suppose.

But my nephews were indeed caught and detained on Saturday. Officers came to their house and my sister and brother-in-law were forced to let them in because they had a warrant. Apparently, all three of my nephews went from being cocky little jerks to crying like babies when they were being put in cuffs.

I know this because a neighbor I’m acquainted with that’s sort of friends with my sister was there to see it.

It didn’t end there, though. Shortly after the arrest my sister and brother-in-law were blowing up my phone again.

They weren’t able to get their kids out till Monday morning. And now the boys are being charged with larceny, willful destruction of property/vandalism, and harassment. The authorities took this whole case pretty seriously as there have been complaints about my nephews for some time—but nothing was proven until now.

The past few months, bags of cans have actually been going missing all over the area.

Don’t know if it was my nephews or not. But they’re likely suspects. And with word spreading of their arrest, let’s hope other neighbors with security cameras come forward with more footage.

My sister and brother-in-law showed up at my house too. I refused to open the door and told them that this all happened because they are enablers who refuse to hold their kids accountable for their actions.

That made them just scream and pound on my door more till I threatened to call 9-1-1 on them too. And since I’ve done it already, they know I mean it now. So they left without any more trouble.

But they went back to blowing up my phone. I didn’t block my sister or her husband. Instead I decided to just save all of the messages they send me because I’ve made the decision to take them to small claims court over this.

I don’t really need or want the money, and have already replaced the destroyed padlock with a much better one. However, the kids aren’t the only ones who need to be taught a lesson.

In the end, I hope I put them in enough of a hole that they learn not to screw with me ever again. I also have the full support of my family on this. My parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.

They’re all supporting me in this because my nephews have stolen from them too. And after banning my nephews from my house, some of them did the same.

Yam-Throwaway

19. All This Over A Parking Space

I am a paramedic in a place that has some HOAs and apartment complexes.

We hate responding to the apartment complexes because there is nothing but assigned parking and no-fire zones. Basically, if we can’t find a space to fit in we have to block the road. My agency also uses first responder vehicles and ambulances.

The first responder, as implied, usually arrives first so we do our best to leave room for the ambulance to fit in.

We get a call at the apartment complex. I am the first responder.

As I pull up to the address by some miracle, there is a spot only two apartments away. Great, I can leave the road clear for the ambulance. As soon as I park, out comes this guy screaming I can’t park there.

I do the “are you serious” look and just say it’s a medical emergency.

He says he doesn’t care, I can’t park there. Keep in mind my vehicle has enough lights to make a Christmas tree jealous.

I just grab my stuff, lock the vehicle, and keep going. He is screaming he is going to call the authorities, I tell him they are already on the way. They respond to medical emergencies.

An officer gets there while I am in with the patient and tells him basically to pound salt.

The officer enters the apartment—and then this guy really goes full-blown hissy fit. He enters the apartment and comes into the room where I am treating the patient.

He starts ranting and raving about how I have to move my vehicle. I look at the officer and say “get him outta here”. The officer then seals his fate. He asks the patient if she wants this person removed from the apartment and did she ever give consent for him to enter.

The patient’s response: “Get him OUT, he’s trespassing”. Boom, the all-clear. The cop gives him one last chance and tells him to leave or he will be detained. He doubles down, yelling: “I AM ON THE HOA BOARD, I CAN GO WHERE I PLEASE”. At this point, backup is called.

The officer at least manhandles the guy out of the room. The ambulance arrives with PD backup and they get him out of the apartment so we can safely remove the patient.

Not entirely sure what happened next, as I was in the back of the ambulance, but when I got out one of the officers approached and said, “Sorry but we need another bus.

We had to taze him”. Policy for PD is if they taze someone, they have to be transported to the hospital by ambulance to the hospital, as the taser spikes have to be surgically removed due to the barbs on them.

They wait for the second ambulance and take him. I go back in service. I found out a few weeks later that he was charged with trespassing, assaulting an officer, resisting arrest, interference with government administration (AKA interfering with the scene of an emergency).

All over a parking space that I would have been in for all of 20 minutes if he hadn’t created problems.

I can only assume he took a plea deal, as I was never called to testify.

taloncard815

20. Pre-Emptive Strike

I had a very long commute to work and some days when I was working late, I would take an Uber home, rather than go through the pain of changing several trains. It was expensive but comfortable.

To keep a track of how much I was spending on Uber I had a separate bank account and I would use only that account to pay Uber.

In those days my manager and I were still on good terms.

She got to know during one conversation that I made only online payments to Uber and rarely carried cash on me. So she decided to take advantage of this and one day pretended that she had lost her phone and needed to book a cab for her father and so could I book it for her.

I obliged.

But there was something that she didn’t know. I hadn’t told her that I had opted for payment in cash, rather than online payment while confirming the booking. And it turned out to be a good thing that I made that switch.

She kept the cab for six hours and proceeded to roam all over the city. Next day she asked me why I had not informed her that the payment was in cash.

I pulled out my phone, showed her the map of the route she had traveled, and the time the cab stayed with her.

No. You are really not as smart as you think.

ProfileElectronic

21. Now That’s The Tea

I work in the marketing department of a small-ish cosmetics company. I’m not what you would call “higher up” in the company, but I’m not entry-level either. Earlier today, I went into the office’s common area/kitchen to make a cup of tea (earl grey, if you care). A woman talking on a phone came into the room as I was waiting on the kettle to boil.

I recognize her as one of our new hires from sales. I doubt she’s been here long enough to get her first check. She was talking loudly, but I ignored her; it’s a somewhat loud office, so it isn’t a big deal for someone to make a little noise. A minute or so later, she says into the phone, “hold on, I need some privacy,” and then turns to me and says, “Excuse me, sorry, I’m on a private call, I need you to leave”.

I’m confused at first, then what she says registers. I get this surprised smile on my face, the kind that says “you joking, mate”? I tell her no.

She gives me the look. Her mouth is open, eyes wide. How dare I use the common area for what it’s for. She doesn’t even say anything. I point to the kettle. I tell her I’m making tea.

She tells me that it is an important medical call.

I tell her the kitchen isn’t a private room, and that she can go to an empty conference room or to her car if the matter is that sensitive. She says she doesn’t like the chairs in the conference room and that it’s too cold to walk out to her car. I shrug.

She eventually gets that I’m not leaving until I’ve had my tea and she stomps off to a conference room.

I hate being a narc, but, for heaven’s sake, just let me make my tea in peace. So, I decide to walk down to sales and chat with her supervisor (whom I know fairly well).

About the time I finish relaying the experience, the woman in question walks in, sees me, and stops. I point her out to the supervisor, pat him on the back, and walk back to my office.

Good luck, newbie!

permalink

22. When You Assume…You Know The Rest

Being someone that used to fly a lot, I constantly was upgraded to business class, first-class, or simply just upgraded seats using miles. Since the flight in question was a connection for me, I arrived and boarded later than most of the plane.

As soon as I walked into the plane, I saw someone was sitting in my seat, since I had been upgraded.

Now, if you fly enough, someone sitting in your seat is not an uncommon occurrence.

But this time, it was an encounter I’ll never forget. I said: “Excuse me, I believe you are in my seat”. The man in my seat does not even bother looking up at me, waves his hand dismissively at me, and says:

“Let’s just switch seats so I can sit beside my wife”. I say, “Sure! What is your seat”?

He snickers and says a number. Now, I do not remember exactly what seat number he said, but it was the last row of the airplane.

Aisle seat. Right by the bathroom. Yes, I have had to fly in those seats in the past. Remember, my assigned seat was in the first class/business class section. Now, I have switched seats with people innumerable times in my life without a second thought, even first-class seats—the look of someone getting to unexpectedly ride first class is priceless.

But the way this guy was behaving and what he was expecting—this was not one of those times. Me:

“No. I am just going to sit in my assigned seat”. Now he finally looked at me. He says: “Well I want to sit by my wife so I am not moving”. I reply: “Well, if you want to sit by your wife, I am sure whoever is sitting way back there would be more than happy to switch seats way up here so you can sit back there with your wife”.

He didn’t like that at all, for what could he really say at that point without sounding like a jerk? He just stared at me.

Now annoyed, I say: “Move”. He says: “I am not moving”. DING. Darn right, I pushed the call button. The flight attendant approaches: “Yes sir, how may I help”? I hand her my ticket and say that he is sitting in my seat.

She asks for his ticket, checks both tickets, sees his seat number, and gave him a look like, “Seriously”? She says: “Sir, you need to sit in your assigned seat”. He replies: “I want to sit beside my wife”. Well, I wasn’t missing a beat. I parroted my original statement about me being sure whoever was sitting back there beside him would be more than happy to switch seats and sit up here.

Boy oh boy, that obviously made him angry. The flight attendant looks at his wife and says “Ma’am, would you like to switch seats so you can sit by your husband”? His wife: “No”. The flight attendant continues in that all-too-familiar flight attendant voice that lets you know you have no choice:

“Well sir, you have to sit in your assigned seat so please gather your things”.

What a sad and pathetic sight it was seeing this grown man act like a baby, gather his things and then sulk towards the back of the plane.

Yes. His wife sat beside me that flight and didn’t join her husband in the back of the plane. No. We didn’t talk to or look at each other even once, which was perfectly fine with me. Imagine dismissively expecting someone to give up their first-class/business class seat to sit in the very last row of the airplane by the bathroom.

YouKnowWho2016

23. Mi Casa Es Not Karen’s Casa

I just got notice yesterday that my entitled aunt Karen has just passed on. I got a call from her husband asking me to attend the funeral next weekend, and I declined. As did my older brother Mark.

Karen was my mother’s older sister and she constantly interfered in my mother and her children’s lives. She never liked my father and always tried to tell my mother that she made a mistake by marrying him.

She didn’t like the name my parents picked out for my older brother. My great-grandmother passed the day before I was born, and when Karen found out they were going to name me after her, she freaked out. She claimed she wanted to name her potential future kid that, so my mother couldn’t use it.

Then she tried to talk her out of it by saying it’s too old-fashioned and kids would make fun of me.

She criticized both my brother’s and my choice of friends and even complained when I started playing softball, because “proper ladies” didn’t play sports and if her daughter ever tried playing a sport, she would have her removed from the team.

Spoiler—she never had children. The day after my 16th birthday, my parents drove on a business trip down to California.

My dad said that when they got back, he would drive me to the DMV to get my license.

He never did, because on the drive to California, they hit a patch of ice, spun out, crashed, and didn’t make it. I was a wreck for some time after that, I didn’t even want to attend my high school graduation later because my parents wouldn’t be there.

Their will split everything evenly between my brother and I.

At the funeral, my parents’ production manager Tim was talking to my brother and my brother told him that in a couple weeks, he would step in and take over. He was counting on Tim to run things smoothly until then and help him in taking it over and learning the ropes.

I had no interest in the business, other than it was a guaranteed summer job when I was growing up.

I stayed out of it and just collected profit checks until I sold my half to Mark, and he continues to run the business to this day.

Mark told Tim that he should assure the employees there that their jobs were safe and that no major changes would be made. Then one day, aunt Karen showed up and began putting her stuff in my parents’ office.

When Tim confronted her about this, she said his services were no longer needed and he was fired. Tim called Mark up and Mark went down with the family attorney, some law enforcement officers, and the necessary paperwork, and had her removed. She claimed the place was now hers because it was her sister’s, so she was now the owner.

As long as I have known her, she has never had a steady job, and has had three husbands. She milked each one for as much as she could get until she divorced him. The next day, I was leaving for school—I walked, it was fairly close, about 10 minutes—and saw her car and a moving van parked outside. She said she was moving into “her” house…but that’s not the worst part. 

She then said in a sickly sweet voice, that for a “reasonable” rent, she would continue to allow me to stay there until I graduated high school. I went in and called my brother, and he again showed up with the family attorney, officers, and all the paperwork, and had her removed from the property. I was at school, so I didn’t get to see what happened.

That night, Mark gave me a business card (for a policeman, who I assume helped deal with all this) and told me that if I ever saw aunt Karen on or near the property to call that number and report her immediately, don’t even try to confront her or give her a warning, just call.

I do know that the movers charged her to move her stuff into the van, drive across town, get turned away, and drive back across town and move her stuff back into her apartment, which she hadn’t given notice yet.

I got scared to the point that I didn’t like letting our dog into the backyard when I was at school, I used to put her out in the yard to let her play in the fenced backyard while I was in school.

For a while, I just put her in the locked and closed garage, and then cleaned up her messes when I got home in the afternoon.

Eventually, Karen moved to Colorado, where I assume she met and married the man who called me and said that she had passed on and he couldn’t find anyone from her family to attend the funeral. I chose not to tell him about her and politely said, “Sorry for your loss, but I can’t make it”.

From discussions with Mark, he basically told him the same thing.

Outside of myself, Mark, and Mark’s infant daughter, I don’t think she has any living relatives. I still own the house (Mark gave me his half as part of the deal where I sold him my half of the business), but still sleep in my bedroom.

I still miss my parents and think about them every day, and even though I am 20, own a large home, have a lot of money in the bank, I would trade it all to have my parents back.

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24. Shifting The Focus

I work at a large chain grocery store in a well-to-do area. While many of our customers may look like typical Karens, most are actually really nice and amazing people. That being said, I was racking carts and I hear this lady on the phone behind me muttering:

“I don’t know why they come to this country, they can barely even speak the language. I’m behind on right now who’s probably a terrorist”!

I look in the window’s reflection and I can see that she’s walking behind a young woman in a hijab who has a small child. The young woman just put her son in a cart and I can see that she looks like she’s about to cry.

So I decide, forget it…I’ll take the hit for her. I spin around to Karen and shout: “Oi! I take bloody exception to that! Just because I’m Irish does NOT mean I am or ever was in the IRA”!

I look at both Karen and the young woman.

Both were speechless and all Karen does is point at the young woman. So I continue, this time speaking to the young woman: “You saw that, didn’t you?! This lady just called me a bloody terrorist!

I might speak Gaelige and wear a Catholic cross! I might even be from Ireland! And darn it I’m bloody proud! But I AM NOT A TERRORIST”!

At this point my manager walks over to see what all the fuss is about.

 I say: “This lady just called me a terrorist”! I turned to the young woman and asked: “You heard her call me that too, right”? My manager looks at the young woman and instantly catches on. He tells Karen that that kind of conduct is not okay in our store, no matter who it’s directed at or why, and that she needs to leave.

Karen, still completely speechless, just turns around and walks out. I turn to the young woman and tell her: “I do apologize about the yelling ma’am, but I’m proud of who I am! If you need anything while you’re shopping, just let me or one of my coworkers know”. The woman thanks me and pushes her cart away while sporting the biggest grin.

My manager then makes the comment “Entertainment tonight: $0. Teaching Karen a lesson about discrimination: $0. Seeing that young woman walking away sporting a grin like the Cheshire cat: priceless”.

jlscott0731

25. A Shaggy Dog Story

My brother is getting married in July.

I have a service dog for my various disabilities and since the day I found out about the wedding, my brother’s fiancé has been unwilling to accommodate my need for my service dog. She has made various excuses like “What if the dog gets hair on my dress”?

, “We don’t want dogs eating food off the table”, “What if he jumps up and messes up my dress? It’s expensive and I don’t have the money to replace it”.

I’ve made it clear that I can’t be at the wedding without my service dog.

Both my mom and I have also made it clear that he would never do any of the things she’s mentioned. Now it’s the venue. “Well, we don’t know if the venue will accommodate you”.

I mentioned that they had to legally and my brother was like “Still…”

It seems like they are trying to find any reason to deny me. We are re-evaluating the topic in July and if it doesn’t go well I might just show up with my service dog anyway.

EricaKat1

26. One Name To Rule Them All

My wife and I spent four years trying to get pregnant before the wrong side of 35. We are currently 33 respectively now and are blessed with a wonderful infant son. My wife has a younger half-sister.

The woman is entitled and awful, and also her mother’s golden child. We’ve refused to let her or my mother-in-law in the house since they both blatantly tried to make off with my wife’s jewelry box a couple of years ago.

The box contained a lot of valuable jewelry inherited from my wife’s grandmother. Said jewelry is now in a safety deposit box as per my suggestion. My wife and I had nearly given up trying to conceive when it suddenly happened.

And we were ecstatic. After we found out we were having a boy, we started looking into names. I ended up suggesting the name of my Scottish grandfather, and my wife loved it.

So that’s the name we settled on.

But we made the mistake of posting about it on social media. Well no surprise to the stereotype in this mess, my sister-in-law was pregnant too. And was months further along than my wife and also having a boy.

She decided to claim my grandfather’s name for her own son. And not just the first name, but the middle name too.

We called her furious over what she was doing, and she smugly told us there’s nothing we can do about it. Which she was sorta right.

There was nothing we could do about it legally. We realized that drama was exactly what my sister-in-law wanted. And she thought that by taking the name for herself, we’d not be able to use it.

I laughed and told her that while what she did was dirty and underhanded, we would keep our chosen name. And she could just deal with it whether she decides to go through with copying us or not.

Well my sister-in-law’s baby-daddy called me and said I was an unreasonable jerk for still wanting to use the name after sister-in-law claimed it. I said she claimed nothing.

Since we couldn’t own the name, then neither could they.

Before he ended the call he threatened me by saying I’d be sorry if we didn’t change the name. Then he hung up before I could respond. Months later, sister-in-law has a healthy baby boy and names him my grandfather’s name.

We did not show up for the birth. Both because of the pandemic, and because we simply didn’t care to be there.

The sister-in-law called us wanting congratulations. But we told her we simply didn’t care.

And that if she was still insisting we change our baby’s name, then she’d be in for some big disappointment because we were not. Sister-in-law demanded I put my wife on the phone.

But it was already on speaker and my wife spoke up and said she agrees with me entirely.

We weren’t changing the name. Sister-in-law hung up on us, but soon started sending emails with text walls of names.

Even suggesting similar ones. I responded back that the name was from my grandfather, and that’s why we were not changing it. She shut up and we didn’t hear from her again till after our own son was born.

Two months later we were blessed with our son. He came out perfect, and we named him just as we’d intended. Well, no surprise my sister-in-law called us a few days after the birth to scream in our ears that we copied her son’s name.

I pointed out she was the real copycat since she had no familial ties to the name and we did. And anyone who looks at our family trees could see that.

Then my wife spoke and said after the attempted theft of her grandmother’s jewelry, she no longer considered her her sister.

And would have nothing to do with her nephew either. For months we were bombarded with messages and emails from my wife’s side of the family. Half were on our side after finding out the whole story, the other half were not.

But it didn’t end there.

Sister-in-law baby-daddy true to his word showed up at my door to “Make me sorry”. I’m not sure what his plan was. But I pretty much towered over him.

I’m 6’1” tall and well-built from regular exercise and three trips to the gym a week. He on the other hand was very skinny and about 5’6” tall with a babyface that was badly hidden by a slim beard.

I told him my house has cameras, and to get off my property and never come back.

He just yelled at me and drove off in his beat-up old car. Sister-in-law and mother-in-law called us from a different number to yell at me for making sister-in-law’s baby-daddy feel emasculated. I didn’t even threaten the man.

Just told him to leave and not come back. And if he didn’t want to feel emasculated, then he shouldn’t have come knocking.

Then they tried to bring up the issue of the baby name again and demanded we change our son’s name as, “He’s so young.

So there’s still plenty of time to do it”! We held our ground and told them that they were bonkers to still think they were in the right after they copied our choice of name just to try and get one over on us.

I said sister-in-law didn’t even name her son out of love, but out of spite just to try and stick it to my wife for no good reason. Then my wife called them both out on the way she was treated growing up, how entitled sister-in-law and mother-in-law have always been, and how she was glad to leave them far behind.

And she wants nothing from them, and they won’t have anything from us.

That left sister-in-law sobbing and mother-in-law called me a terrible person before hanging up the phone. We were no contact again for a little while till sister-in-law called us again sometime later to bitterly tell us we’d won.

She and her baby daddy got in a huge fight and he left. He was apparently very sore that sister-in-law didn’t let him even give their son a middle name from his family.

He said he was sick of the drama and wanted his son named after him and not some guy he wasn’t even related to.

Sister-in-law finally caved and they got the boy’s birth certificate reissued with a completely new name. Which cost sister-in-law around $500, or so she claims. I still can’t believe that she still tried to twist it around after that. 

Sister-in-law then demanded we at least compensate her for the name change, plus another $100 for the emotional damage as now she’s going to have to get used to calling her son by a different name. We laughed and said this would have never happened if she hadn’t stolen our baby name to begin with, and we didn’t owe her anything.

Since then we’ve been no contact with sister-in-law and mother-in-law. But my father-in-law who’s a very nice man and divorced from mother-in-law for obvious reasons would come by often and loves his grandson.

From what he and other relatives told us the situation between sister-in-law and her baby daddy was pretty tumultuous. But we don’t care. Not our monkeys, not our circus.

DadWhoStoodHisGround

Entitled peopleShutterstock

27. Fools Rush In

I was there when this 16-year-old motorcycle driver was hit by a truck.

The paramedics had to treat him on the spot so that he’d have a chance of survival. This didn’t sit right with a 50-year-old driver who claimed that she had “an important appointment” and the resulting traffic jam was getting in the way of that. The officers on the scene told her to calm down and get back to her car.

Well, she didn’t like that and started to harass them non-stop. Screaming, cursing, getting out of her car to nag at them because she was running late.

After all it was “just a single motorcycle driver, how long can this take”? Sadly, the boy didn’t make it—but the story doesn’t end there. The horrible woman is now facing charges for blocking the corridor for emergency vehicles and resisting officers.

I hope the poor guy at least gets entertainment out of haunting her for the rest of her miserable existence.

Acciothrow

28. Giving Them A Taste Of The Local Hospitality

A few years ago I had a side hustle on my days off. My job had a rotational schedule where I worked two weeks then got two weeks off.

I made plenty of money at my job, but it didn’t hurt to make a little extra cash. I was in essence a tour guide. But for the region I lived in. I didn’t have any planned tours but usually just took people to see neat places that they would not know about or think to go to.

I was adamant about getting paid up front. And customers signed an agreement saying that made guarantees to protect my truck from messes or damage. Never had any issues fortunately, and people always enjoyed the places I showed them.

Except for one family. They seemed friendly enough when I was having them sign a contract and collecting my fee. I should mention my fee was $15/hour + $75 ($35 if it was a half day).

This covered a tank of fuel, plus paid for my time shuttling you around.

I also kept a cooler with free water and some limited snacks. You were paying for my knowledge of the region, plus knowledge about the area’s history and such. Plenty of times I had customers tell me, “I’ve never seen so much cool stuff in one day”.

You could maybe find something cheaper, but I didn’t care.

Once money changed hands with this family, the attitude changed. They began treating me like I was a second class citizen. But I had their money, so I didn’t care.

I drove them around to some of the most beautiful scenery you can find. It’s rare people are left speechless by these places and never have I seen someone not be impressed. Until now.

Every place I showed them they just seemed disappointed.

One of the places was a ski town popular with a lot of celebrities (not Aspen), and they were just like “Eh, it’s ok”. I can’t deny I was a little offended by their indifference but whatever.

They were never outright rude during the day, but were surprised when I didn’t buy lunch for them. As I said, you’re paying for my time, food is on you.

But when I got back to town and dropped them off at their hotel, it got interesting. The wife says, “You can just park in the back and leave the keys at the desk.

Tell them they are for the Smith family”. Me: “I’m sorry, what”? Wife: “This truck, just park it in the back. We might use it later”. Me: “This is my truck. I’m not leaving it here, that’s not part of the deal”

Wife: “Oh please, there is no way you can own a vehicle like this.

It obviously belongs to your company”. Me: “I do this job by myself, on my days off from my regular job. I assure you, this is my truck. I can show you my name on the title”.

Wife: “Young man (I had just turned 30) If you don’t do as your told I will be forced to call your boss”. Me: “You mean me? I am my boss”.

Wife: “Okay smarty-pants, get your boss on the phone, right now”! I thought about just driving off, but then had a better idea. I called my supervisor at my real job.

We’ll call him Dan. Dan has been in the oilfield for 14 years and could have quite the potty mouth. Good supervisor, he knew what I did on my days off and even sent people my way a few times.

He answered and I just said, “One of my clients is demanding to speak with my boss, so here she is” and handed her my phone. The wife, sounding smug, said “I tried to tell your driver to leave the truck here so we could use it but he lied and said he owns it”. I could hear him yelling “ARE YOU (BLEEPING) STUPID”? I didn’t discern anything else but I know he gave her a good thrashing.

She just walked to the window, handed me my phone, and said, “He wants to talk to you” then walked away. Boss: “That fix your problem”? Me: “Yea, thanks Dan”. Boss: “Anytime brother”.

Artilleryman08

29. A Restraining Order In The Making

I’m currently eight months pregnant with my first child.

I work as a secretary on the inpatient ward of a hospital, second shift. I started working here when I was 19 to support myself through college. So, my coworkers are like family. When I was four months pregnant, I told my coworkers, who were happy for me.

All except Patty. She didn’t say anything.

After a while, she started being friendly with me asking about the baby, my health, and my plans for the future. I told her that my boyfriend and I were getting married and moving in together to be a family.

Patty didn’t like this for some reason, and started asking me about my opinions on adoption. I said NO, I’d never give my child up for adoption

For a few weeks, Patty gave me the silent treatment. Then one night, after visiting hours, a couple in their 40s showed up.

told them that visiting hours were over and that they could see their family member tomorrow. What the woman told me made my blood run cold. She said, “Oh, we’re here to see YOU! We’re so excited to meet you and want to thank you for choosing us to give your baby to”!

I was dumbfounded and shocked—until the woman tried to touch my six months pregnant belly. I screamed so loud all of the nurses came running.

The couple tried to explain to security, nurses, and me, that their sister-in-law told them that I was a young unwed mother desperately trying to give up my baby for adoption and choose them.

She said that their sister-in-law promised them my baby, since they have been suffering from infertility for years.

I told them that I had no intentions of giving up my baby and to never come near me again. I also told them that I don’t even know their sister-in-law, but they kept insisting that I did.

The next night Patty comes charging up to my desk, screaming at me.

She’s yelling and asking how could I treat her brother and sister-in-law like garbage, after she helped me with my “mistake”. I called security and Patty, her brother and sister-in-law are banned from coming near me or contacting me at work.

dry-deal-9523

30. Eat Your Words

I moved cities six months ago, and my new job site has a 12-hour shift system (8 am to 8 pm or 8 pm to 8 am). And since I have a very high metabolism and am a total foodie, I have been packing a lot of food from home.

(breakfast, two snacks, lunch or two dinners, and baked goods for tea time). I usually eat with my team of four people, and they get their meals from the on-site cafeteria.

I share my meals with them, because I love feeding people and I pack extra.

But then I got a call from another co-worker, one whose husband is part of my team. She works in our opposing shift. This lady was aggressive from the get-go, demanding that I stop bringing my elaborate meals and that I should just get what the cafeteria is serving like everyone else.

I was firm and said that I was not going to change my habits and that she doesn’t have a right to demand that. Then she went on a rant about how her husband has been comparing her to me (cooking, presentability, cheer is what she mentioned) and complaining for the last six months.

I admit I felt bad for her. So I said that those kinds of issues should be discussed with her husband, not with me.

But I said again, that I will continue bringing food from home.

Then she called me the b-word and hung up on me.

Storm-Lady

31. Bridesmaidzilla

My baby brother was born terminally ill. The long hospital stays and expensive meds kicked in around six months old. To cope with the huge medical bills, mom worked some odd jobs over the years, including making custom wedding and bridesmaids gowns.

My mom had a few golden rules. Number 1: She did all of your measurements. I heard the lecture of “vanity fibbing only results in a poorly fitting dress” more times than I can count.

Number 2: All final fittings must be completed at least three weeks before the wedding.

That way if Dewey had an emergency hospital stay, she’d have time to arrange for someone to sit with him while she went home to finish a job. He was nonverbal and needed a constant companion.

This particular bride wanted all of her bridesmaids in pastel organza dresses (organza is a gauzy fabric).

The base dresses were white, covered with these colors. Unfortunately, the bride had more bridesmaids than pastel shades the fabric came in… meaning one lucky bridesmaid wore tan.

The bride refused to start a fight by assigning colors so it was first come, first serve. When you came for measurements, you got to pick from the remaining colors.

One bridesmaid lived three hours away and flat out refused to come to town to be measured.

She insisted that telling us she was a size 8 was good enough. Bridal sizes are very different and didn’t cleanly convert, so that meant nothing. Mom finally reached the compromise that a local seamstress could measure her and send in the measurements.

One month before this wedding, Dewey was admitted into the ICU to be placed on a ventilator. Mom now had to find coverage enough to get eight dresses finished off in the next two or so weeks.

She pulled it off thanks to amazing friends, but it was tight. Dad was busy working overtime to pay the bills and dealing with us other two kids.

Well, this horrible bridesmaid still REFUSED to have a final fitting more than two days before the wedding.

She “didn’t want to waste a trip just because [my mom] was a horrible seamstress who didn’t understand proper sizing”. I was cleaning up seed pearls during that lovely conversation! My mom begged a friend to sit with Dewey for an entire day so she could do the fitting and adjustments all at once.

Well, the horrible bridesmaid was two hours late. When she arrived, she saw the hideous tan dress and began literally screaming about how it wasn’t fair and my mom must have picked that color. She demanded another bridesmaid return their dress and both dresses get swapped colors.

It would have been 20+ hours of work, so mom laughed and told her that was a big no.

The bride arrived and told her friend that color was the only option left and she was sorry, but it was that or drop out of the wedding and pay for the dress anyways.

The bridesmaid finally agreed to put it on…yeah, she’d lied about her size. When the zipper didn’t go all the way up, Mom whipped out the measuring tape only to discover this woman had shaved 1-2 inches off every measurement except height!

Her defense was that she wasn’t going to let a jealous seamstress lie about her so she “fixed” the numbers before passing them on. By this point, my mom was all but breathing fire.

Her son’s life hung in the balance and this lunatic was making her life awful. My mom demanded double for the dress because she was going to have to add strips to the base white dress to make it big enough then make a whole new overdress from organza.

It was doubling the time and adding substantially to fabric costs. The bridesmaid fought over it and my mom finally told her “Fine, pay me the agreed-upon amount and take your dress as is”! Now, the bride herself was trying to talk the bridesmaid into just paying up.

She finally agreed to it and my mom told the bride to get the bridesmaid out of her house.

They could come back in five hours to get the dress. Thankfully the redone dress was a perfect fit.

The bridesmaid paid the remaining balance and left after that. But she still ruined something that day. After my brother passed, my mom refused to ever make another wedding dress. She’s only made one in the 21 years since, as a favor to the friend who spent that ill-fated day with Dewey in the ICU while Mom fought with the awful bridesmaid.

CyborgKnitter

32. Where The Sidewalk Ends

So, when I was around six years old I lived with my family in a nice house in a small city in Poland, it was a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts and pretty much all the neighbors knew each other.

There were no sidewalks around the part of the street I lived at. Only one crappy sidewalk that started on the other side in front of my neighbor’s house.

It’s important to remember that the sidewalk was very old and in bad shape.

Still to this day, people are asking the city to fix it. This story is about that neighbor, Karen. She was an older lady, everyone suspected that she really didn’t have anything better to do than gather gossip and disturb everyone trying to rule the street.

Everyone was commenting that if you wanted to get the whole area to know something you had to tell her it as a secret. Whenever someone came to visit us they usually parked their car in front of our property.

But on bigger meet-ups, like barbeques or parties, people would park in front of our closest neighbors’ houses too.

That never was a problem, no gates were obstructed, and no one was disturbed. Well, almost.

Karen hated when someone parked in front of her house, she would always run out yelling about “How we dared to park filthy cars on her precious sidewalk”. My mother is not someone that lets anyone yell at her.

She had many discussions with Karen about the laws and rules that stated that she doesn’t own anything outside her fence.

Which means that the sidewalk is public and anyone can park on it as long as they leave enough space for a wheelchair to pass.

That wasn’t enough. Every time someone would come to us and park their car there, the yelling would start. Until one time when my mother’s friend, Tomek, came for a coffee during winter. He’s a local policeman and his specialty is road law.

So my mother tells him about Karen and her behavior regarding the sidewalk. Tomek laughs since that thing was in such a bad shape that it can barely be even called sidewalk. When he was leaving, he assured my mom that he would step by next day for a coffee on his lunch break.

Next day comes by and I was playing with my brother in the snow.

We see a black car pulling over in front of Karen’s house and, as the driver gets out, Karen storms out of her house yelling “You can’t park here. This is MY sidewalk.

Get your filthy car off my prop—“. Well, there he was, Tomek, with his full uniform, hat and all, turning around towards Karen as comically as he could and asking “Excuse me? You tell me that I can’t park my car here”?

She says yes, and he tells her that the sidewalk is open to the public.

She claims it’s her sidewalk, and he asks if she is then the one responsible for taking care of it. She says yes—but he has the perfect reply.  “Oh, that’s so nice that I found you. Since it’s YOUR sidewalk, you are responsible for clearing the snow from it to not create danger for the people walking on it.

Since it was not plowed I need to write you a fine for endangering public safety”.

He then pulls out his notebook. She says that no other sidewalks are plowed, and claims that she’s too old to shovel. He tells her that she should hire someone in that case—but that she wouldn’t be responsible if the sidewalk was not, in fact, hers. Finally, she relented and said it wasn’t hers. Tomek says:

“But a moment ago you were yelling at me that it was. So what is it? Is it yours or not? Because I don’t know if I should fine you now”.

She says it’s not hers. He replies:

“All right, seems like we cleared that up. Now, if you ever harass anyone like you did with me, it could result in a fine. So I recommend you watch out on what you claim to be yours”. And then he proceeded to cross the street and enjoy a coffee in our house.

Karen never disturbed anyone for parking in front of her house again, she would only stare at people trying to burn holes in their skulls with her sight.

The FallenPolish

33. Nama-Stay Away From Me

So, this happened two or three days ago.

I had gone to the grocery store, since I was running out of sausages, eggs, and milk. Over there, I ran into my friend. I greeted him by saying “Namaste”. We’re Indian. Enter entitled vegan, stage left.

“Are you guys vegan”? Perplexed, we both shook our heads. “Then you can’t say ‘Namaste’. That’s a vegan term”.

My friend and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Not only was she trying to tell Indians to stop speaking their own language, she was pronouncing it completely wrong.

Between gasps of breath, my friend managed to say, “It’s pronounced ‘Namaste”. At that, the entitled stranger turned bright red. “How would you know”? she demanded.

I interjected. “We’re quite literally Indian. ‘Namaste’ is a word from Hindi.

You’re the one who is wrong”. Of course, logic did not work on her. As she opened her mouth to retort, my friend picked up my chicken sausages and shook them at her. She leapt back and then thankfully walked away in disgust.

lordofthehamstrings

34. What’s Mine Isn’t Yours

My younger sister went through a pretty rough time as a young adult, drinking and doing other stuff and generally being wild, she ended up getting pregnant and giving birth at age 18 when I was just a few weeks away from turning 21. She did not want the child after giving birth, she refused to even pick up the child and would leave her sitting in dirty nappies.

Despite never wanting children myself either, I stepped in and adopted my newborn niece as my daughter. My then-boyfriend who I’d been with for three years gave me a disturbing ultimatum. He said it was him or her, as he didn’t want children either.

I picked her and he left me, which resulted in me suddenly being a single mother.

The first few years were rough as a single parent, barely making ends meet, but I managed and my sister had nothing to do with us.

I never once hid the truth from my daughter that she was adopted, but always assured her I loved her so much and was her Mummy. When my daughter was six, my sister was finally clean and wanted to have access to her.

I allowed it but stressed she would just be an aunt to her and she accepted this, though it’s clear she struggled with the concept and sometimes acted more like a mother which I always squashed quickly.

Now, my daughter is eight and I’ve been offered a job in a different country, the pay is almost double my current salary and the company is helping us find a home.

They’re even putting my daughter in an international school and after-school care, so of course I’m going to take it. This resulted in my family having a meltdown about how I can’t do this and how it’s cruel to take my daughter away from her family and how it’s not fair to my sister.

My sister has told me she won’t allow me to move away with her and that she’ll fight in court to get my daughter back.

I’ve talked to lawyers and it seems she doesn’t have a leg to stand on, as my daughter is legally my daughter, but the rest of my family is telling me I’m being extremely cruel and if I cared about my sister I’d turn this job down.

I left home at 16 and finished my education. My sister meanwhile is the golden child who gets away with everything, she even now lives with our parents and doesn’t work.

My daughter, while sad to be leaving her school and friends, is excited for the move.

I’ve been teaching her about the country every night before bed and we’ve gone to some authentic restaurants to try food from there. I’ve also promised her we’ll fly back at least once a year to visit and she can facetime/call her friends.

I feel like my family is angling for me to eventually just hand my daughter back over as if I was just a temporary filler for my sister—which will obviously never happen.

lollipoptrash04

35. Ex Vs. HOA: Who’s Worse?

I’ll start this off by saying my ex is vindictive as heck. We’ve been fully divorced since about right before the pandemic started.

We sold the house we shared and I didn’t have to pay her alimony because she cheated and we’re in an at-fault state. It was messy since D-Day. All of the stereotypes. First the sobbing and then trickle truths saying “I love you”! “It was just one time”! “Ok it was two years”.

Then the gaslighting, followed by “I’m going to take you for everything”! before packing her stuff and walking out. I feel like I never really knew the woman my ex was in all the time we were together.

We were married for five years and together for seven. And in two of those five married years, she had affairs with three other men. The final one being a foreign businessman of some sort from what I could find out.

Yes, I got tested and was thankfully negative. Yes, she got pregnant by the final dude, and no I didn’t sign the birth certificate because I found out about all the affairs before the baby was born thanks to a call from the first dude.

My ex tried to go full scorched earth on me. But since we live in and were married in an at-fault state, she lost.

We didn’t pay equally into our house, and the equity was divided 70/30.

So I got a pretty good cash payout when I sold our marital home to put as a down payment on a different house closer to my job. It’s a bit of a downgrade.

But suits a single guy in his thirties like me just fine. My ex did show up to my house once. But I refused to let her in.

She yelled at me that I’d financially ruined her in the divorce.

I said that she was fully willing to do that to me first. Then, the woman had the audacity to say it should have been my life that got messed up, and not hers. I laughed so hard and said it was karma.

She yelled that she’d sue me for what was rightfully hers. I said if she was gonna sue me, then to go ahead and sue me.

It’d end up the same way in court, because she has nothing but a false sob story.

She was the cheater, not me. I’m no angel, but I didn’t do anything to her. And she was the one who ruined our marriage. Then she took it up a notch. She then said she’d tell everyone she could that I abused her.

I said I’d sue her for defamation if she did, and I was recording our interaction and had those words saved to my phone.

She went wide-eyed and her jaw dropped. The look people are calling the surprised Pikachu face.

Then I asked why she was there, if not to just try and make trouble. Because she had a new man in her life that knocked her up. She just huffed at me and said he isn’t around much, and she’s stuck in a tiny apartment living off his child support till he comes back.

It was immature of me I know, but I did the bit of playing the world’s smallest violin. She raged at me and then got in her car to leave. Haven’t seen her since.

But as soon as I got her out of my life, I had to deal with an even more annoying problem. There is an HOA in my neighborhood. But I was not legally obligated to join it because the last owner of my house was not a member.

I made sure of that through a real estate lawyer as well.

The HOA had no grounds to force me to join and they were not happy about it. The HOA president would show up with forms every week for the first month demanding I sign them.

Then she threatened to take me to court. To which I had to get a C&D sent to her from my lawyer to make her stop that. So she started harassing me by looking for any infractions she possibly could to report to the city.

An inspector came out several times and found nothing wrong. In fact, I offered one of them a burger while grilling, and they graciously accepted. Did I mention the HOA hates barbecues and parties that aren’t approved in advance?

Well, they do. And I like to grill when the weather is good. And my neighbors actually love me for it because I invite them over.

I had the authorities called on me several times for noise complaints because I was playing music on a Saturday afternoon while having my friends over. The HOA president I caught trespassing once when she was trying to peer into my windows.

I called the authorities, but she denied ever doing it. So I got cameras. She hasn’t trespassed since.

But I still got repeated passive-aggressive letters saying my cameras were not an approved addition to my house.

Some months ago I started getting letters for fines in the mail. And when I contacted the HOA, their representative claimed they had it on record that I’d joined, and needed to pay all fees effective immediately.

I told them that was not possible.

Then they emailed a scanned copy of the forms, and they had a signature on them. But it was not mine. That’s when I made a chilling realization. It was very similar in some ways, and I recognized right away as being my ex’s handwriting.

She knew what my signature looked like. But it was a loose imitation at best. I got in touch with a lawyer right away over the forged signature.

But the HOA still demanded to go to court.

And it took seven months before that happened. Meanwhile they were stacking unpaid fines against me weekly, and were threatening to put a lien on my house. We went to court and the HOA president looked very smug.

But my lawyer pointed out how the signature wasn’t the same as mine, and was very inconsistent in the various forms.

I’d never allowed the HOA president in my house, and I’d never requested the forms.

The idiot HOA president actually slammed her palm on the table and said it was still binding. But when pressed where the fraudulent signature came from, she admitted my ex-wife called the HOA and they sent her the forms, then got them back in the mail signed.

Then she actually claimed she’d thought I’d signed them. The judge looked at her and asked if she was serious. She confirmed she was. The judge then asked how a woman I was no longer married to, that had never even lived with me in my current residence was supposed to have any bearing on whether or not I joined her HOA.

She went quiet and I could see the “Oh no” look on her face as the hamster wheels were turning.

She seemed to finally mentally put the pieces together. My lawyer then counterclaimed that what the HOA did was a blatant scam, and actions must be taken.

And they were. I countersued the HOA for the emotional distress of the harassment I’d gotten since moving in. Which I had lots of proof of. That won me about ten grand after lawyer fees, which I decided to put towards my mortgage.

The HOA president was removed from her throne. I like to think she was kicking and screaming. She was also slapped with a hefty fine. I’ve seen her outside a few times, and she always looks at me like I am the devil.

The HOA itself had to pay all of my fees too. I wanted to go after my ex for forging my signature. Unfortunately, not long after she forged my signature on those forms, she apparently left the country to be with her third affair partner.

She’s somewhere in Europe from what I can see of the final posts on her FB before she disappeared. So I can’t do anything against her unless she ever returns to the US.

So that was a wash. I’m not getting letters from the HOA anymore, though. And the new president has promised to keep things completely cordial from now on.

I still don’t feel like I got much of a win in this though.

Other than the 10k payout, it all felt like a huge waste of time.

SpurredOneLastTime

36. How The Tables Have Turned

My mom works for an energy company in customer service, taking phone calls, answering questions and sometimes helping fix simple issues.

It started not too long ago and she was one of the few first employees so right from the start she knew pretty much everyone who worked there, including the CEO who she describes as a very nice, down to earth guy who’d always dress pretty casually so he’d blend in with everyone else pretty easily.

After a couple of months, they started hiring more people to work, including this one guy who was apparently very entitled and considered himself better than everyone. Mom and a few others didn’t like him because he was apparently arrogant, always tried to correct others only to be wrong himself, kept making the same mistakes, ignored many rules on the floor and had a huge temper and would scream and curse at anyone who said something he didn’t like.

The screaming would 99.9% of the time be something along the likes of “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO (insert whatever someone did or said)”. Many complained about him but the manager at the time was too nice or scared or both to actually do something about him.

That is, until he made one fatal mistake. One day he was apparently playing games on his phone while at the same time talking to a customer and telling all kinds of random wrong things.

That’s when the CEO came to check the floor after a meeting. Seeing this guy he walked up to him and calmly informed him he wasn’t allowed to have his phone out while helping a customer so he could completely focus on said customer for the moment.

Cue the guy literally throwing his headset off, jumping to his feet and scream in his face “AND WHO THE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO TELL ME HOW TO DO MY JOB?!”?!

Along with this, he was stomping his foot at each syllable.

The boss stood there for a moment, obviously in shock, and the guy, thinking he’d won smirked all smug before the boss pulled a, well, boss-move. “WELL I JUST SO HAPPEN TO BE THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY”!

he screamed back, even copying the foot-stomping. The dumb guy lost the smirk.

According to my mom, he went from angry bright red to pure white in half a second. The boss then calmly grabbed the headset, which apparently still had the customer who held everything, and apologized for what she heard and just asked her what she needed help with, finished in a minute and, before hanging up once again, apologized.

He then told her the other guy was fired so it wouldn’t happen again. As soon as he hung up he told to the other guy he was serious and he’d better gather his stuff.

At the end the annoying employee was gone, the manager got a talk on dealing with bad employees, and someone baked the boss a cake.

roxan1930

37. No Such Thing As A Free Lunch

This literally just happened. I work for a security company that has a branch that transports patients from regular hospitals to mental health hospitals.

I can’t say more due to both company policy and HIPPA Laws. Anyway, our local office is in one of the main hospitals here. I started getting hungry and we didn’t have any transports at the moment so I decided to go down to the cafeteria and get some food.

When I got down the I was surprised to see my second eldest Nephew (who we’ll call R) looking over everything with a defeated look on his face. I walked up and said, “R what are you doing here”?

He turned and said that my parents were there for an appointment. “Ok, so why you down here looking so upset”? I asked. “I got hungry but I don’t have enough money to get anything” he replied.

“No worries, get whatever you want” I told him. I texted my mom to let her know he was with me eating vs lost in the hospital while we were in line. Soon, as I had paid for our food a random woman taps me on the shoulder, looks me in the eye, and says, “Aren’t you going to pay for mine too”? “I never planned to,” I responded.

“Why not, you paid for that chubby kid who has been hanging around for half an hour, why not pay for a cute girl’s too”.

“Well, first of all, the ‘chubby kid’ as you put it, just so happens to be one of my nephews who is here with my mom and stepdad somewhere, Second of all, why would you just assume I would buy you anything”?

She told me that I was rude, that she was going to report me to the hospital director and get me fired. I told her that I didn’t work for the hospital. “Then why do you have a hospital ID badge”

I told her, “The person you are talking about is two people behind you and just saw the whole thing, so have fun with that”. Then I walled off and joined my nephew at the table.

Not sure what was said after I walked off but I saw the woman leave the cafeteria with nothing, and the director came out of the pick-up area laughing his behind off.

Dace-Dragonheart85

38. Taking It To The Max

When my mother and her dog moved next door to our entitled neighbor, they fell in l love with my mother’s dog, Max.

For about two years the neighbor would come get Max for visits. She would watch Max if my mother went out of town, or just so they could play with him. She then moved across town and would still call to ask for Max visits.

My mother started letting the dog go less and less, but would say yes now and again because of the neighbor’s pleading. Just before one of the arranged visits, Max got into a fight with another dog.

Max seemed to be ok. When the neighbor came my mother said she was worried about letting him go because of the dog fight. The neighbor promises that she would look after Max and make sure he was ok.

The next day she called my mother and told her that she took Max to the vet because he had a wound on his neck. She also told my mother that she was keeping Max because my mother neglected the dog.

My mother was devastated. My mother then called the authorities. They couldn’t help because she had agreed to allow the dog to go with the neighbor.

My mother had to file a civil complaint.

It took two months to go to court. The neighbor told the judge that she and my mother had always shared custody of the dog and that she was the most fit dog parent so she should have the dog.

The judge explained that Max was my mother’s possession and that the neighbor was to return him immediately.

He also said the neighbor was responsible for the vet bill and no, my mother did not have to give her visitation.

Llaphingatlife

39. Turning The Tables

This is my friend’s tale about how she turned the tables on a home invader. At the time this happened, my friend was rising her child by herself in a suburb of in Texas.

The area they lived in wasn’t particularly safe, with wild beasties of both human and animal kinds so my friend armed herself with a small pistol and took some safety classes to protect her small family.

The years go by, her child is now five and there was a series of break-ins in the neighborhood. My friend hired a security company to install security cameras around her home. One day while reviewing footage, friend noticed a strange man lurking around the house.

He seemed to wander around a bit and then wandered away, so friend shrugged and carried on with her day.

Nothing to worry about right? Turns out—she was wrong. A few days later, my friend was working in her home office and saw the same guy walking down her driveway, opening the gate, and entering her backyard.

My friend realized the kitchen door was open, and her child was playing in the living room. My friend grabbed her pistol from her purse and ran to the kitchen and got there as the guy calmly walked through her backdoor!

The guy sauntered in, looked and looked around the room—to see my friend standing there with her pistol pointed at him. Guy froze.

She yelled: “Who are you and why are you in MY house!? The guy gulped, grabbed his phone and DIALED 9-1-1! He said: “Help! I’m standing in this kitchen and some crazy lady has a pistol pointed at me”!

My friend was stunned but didn’t put her pistol down while calmly telling her child to go play in their room then stood there, not moving while staring down the guy, who refused to leave! The guy said: “You are gonna get it when the authorities show up lady”! She told him to get out of her house.

The guy actually stayed standing there until the officers came into the kitchen!

The guy saw the officers and started screaming, “Cuff her, she’s crazy! Look, she has a pistol on me”! My friend put it down and started shaking.

“This is MY house! YOU broke in”! The officers then stopped and stared, looked at the guy, and asked: “You broke in”? The guy said: “Well her door was open, and then she pulled a pistol on me! That’s not how it works! Cuff her for having a pistol”!

My friend said:

“I have a license and this is Texas you idiot”! The officers detained the guy—who was STILL howling about my friend. She gave the officers a copy of the video of him sniffing around earlier in the week.

Waifer2016

40. Someone Never Learned “Sisters Before Misters”

My sister, who is in her mid-30s, is probably the worst case of entitled I’ve ever seen. She’s always the victim, can do no wrong, and the world owes her for her imaginary suffering. This time, however, she’s reached a new level. She’s recently confessed to our mom and I that she’s started dating someone behind her husband’s back.

To be honest, her husband is also a ginormous dirtbag, but just leave the guy, okay.

I don’t think anyone deserves to be cheated on, and even though he totally sucks, an affair doesn’t constitute some kind of just punishment. It’s messy, gross, and not worth it, save everyone the extra heartache. Now, we lost our grandma at the end of August.

It hasn’t even been a month since she passed, and since she was terminally ill, we did have time to discuss some things and make arrangements for others. She lived in an apartment that’s attached to our mom’s house, and we had talked about me moving into it after grandma passed. Everyone thought it was a good idea because my grandma had things like no-slip railings, kitchen tools/gadgets for arthritic hands, etc.

I am also disabled and could benefit from the same equipment. Well, I come to find out my idiotic sister thinks it’d be a cool idea to have her marital affair move into our mom’s property instead, so she can use our mom as some kind of cover for her affair. I am absolutely repulsed and livid.

We were all just starting to let my sister come around again, because after grandma passed, she seemed like it had really affected her.

We really believed that she was really turning over a new leaf, but it’s all because she wants her boyfriend to move in. I don’t think anyone is going to go with the idea. I just can’t believe that she even thought it would be a viable option and something that she could even suggest to us, why does she just assume that we’ll help her cheat on her husband? I want no part of it, I will not be an accomplice.

Also, her justification for suggesting he move in is because “Sister (me) doesn’t seem to be in much of a rush to get up there”, like yeah? Well, here’s the reason why. I found our grandma, deceased, LESS THAN A MONTH AGO, in that house.

Sorry I haven’t been in a hurry to erase grandma from her home. Sorry I haven’t been sorting through all of her belongings and getting them ready to be rehomed or donated.

I wish I could keep every trace of her, and the fact that I have to get rid of anything at all hurts.

I’m sorry I haven’t done it yet, but maybe try having a little empathy. Because of this, I’ve decided that I’m kicking my sister out of my life again. Each time I think she’s capable of changing, she shows that she’s still the same horrible, selfish person, and I’m done falling for the charade.

Have fun with the inevitable divorce proceedings.

Good luck explaining all this to your kids too.

witheredpoet

41. The Art Of The Deal

We have been looking for a car for our youngest. Looking through online ads, we came across an ad for a luxury car that only asked for about 1/3 of what this car blue books for. The says the car just suddenly stopped starting.

My husband is a mechanic so we decided to look at it, just to see. Immediately, he sees a couple potential problems as to why it doesn’t start.

The car has new tires, the body is nearly perfect, and the interior needs a few easy fixes.

Still well worth way more than owner is asking, even with paying for repairs to get it running. Of course, we bought it. My youngest is ecstatic about getting a luxury car for graduation. My husband gets the car running—it was an even easier fix than he originally thought. That’s when we met the crazy lady. 

It’s time for plates and registration. Off to the DMV we go.

We come out with the temporary tags and as my husband is putting them on the car, this lady walks up. She says: “Excuse me”? But I was on the phone, so I ignore her.

Again, she says, more rudely this time, “Excuse me”? I reply: “I’m sorry, do you need something”? She says: “Yes! That car”.

I say: “My car? What about it”? She asks: “Where did you get it”? Me:

“We bought it a few weeks ago”. She says: “That’s my car”. My husband says: “No, it isn’t. Now get away from us”.

She says: “Yes, that is the car I was going to buy from [previous owner] and you stole it from me”. I say: “Lady, I paid [previous owner] what they were asking and nothing was said about you.

Leave. Us. Alone”.

She claims she had an agreement to buy the car from the previous owner. She says “You came in and MADE her sell it to you. I want it back and I want it now.

I had to buy that piece of garbage over there instead. Now, you take the piece of garbage and give me my car”. I told her whatever, and to get out of my way before I run her over.

She says: “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already reported to the authorities that I have found my stolen car and they are on the way”. My husband asks: “Are you nuts lady? You can’t just report a car stolen because you missed the chance to buy it”. But there was something this insane lady didn’t know. We were actually waiting on the previous owner to show up to get her plate and registration because there was a mix-up with the title (DMV’s fault).

We had to wait to get that fixed before we could title, register, and plate it, so we were still using the correct plates.

The previous owner can then turn in her plate and get a refund for the months not used. Two cruisers pulled up about five minutes later. The previous owner pulled in right behind them. As the two officers are getting out and asking who called, the previous owner walked up to me and my husband, asking what is going on.

She hadn’t noticed the crazy lady yet. The crazy lady immediately started yelling how she had paid for this car and we forced the previous owner to give us the title instead. She wanted us taken away and her given the title and possession of the car right now. One of the officers walked over to us.

I grinned because it is one my friend’s sons. He grew up with and was friends with my oldest son.

He said: “Hey. Want to tell me what is going on”? I replied: “I don’t really know.

We bought this car a few weeks ago from her [pointing to previous owner] and while we were waiting for her to show up to get her plate, this woman started screaming at us about stealing the car.

Something about they [pointing between previous owner and crazy lady] had an agreement about the car but she [previous owner] sold it to us instead and now she [crazy lady] is demanding we take whatever car she ended up buying and we give her this one”.

The previous owner says:

“Oh my god. This is exactly why I didn’t sell her the car in the first place. She is my neighbor and she is INSANE! She asked me about it when I decided to sell it and I told her she could buy it, but she wanted me to get it running again but still sell it to her for the low price.

I told her I didn’t want to deal with it and that is why it was low”.

“If I got it running again, I might just keep it, but I would definitely raise the selling price to at least double.

She has called me a few times asking if I had it running yet and I have told her no but she kept telling me to call her when I did”. The officer then (going with procedures) checked all of our IDs, checked the bill of sale, previous registration, and ran the VIN.

Everything checked out.

The officer said: “I think we’re done here”. Then he turned to the crazy lady and said: “Ma’am, what you have attempted here is against the law. Actually, you made a false report which is against the law and I could cuff you, but I’m not. I’m sure you’re just upset and made a bad judgment call so we will let it slide”. Her reaction was unbelievable.

 

She screamed: “No! It wasn’t a false report! That is MY car”! He said: “Ma’am, stop. Just stop. I could also charge you with attempted car theft but we’re all just going to walk away now”. She said:

“No! I’m not just walking away. This isn’t happening. [Pointing at previous owner] You owe me [amount twice what we paid for the car] And I will get my car back”.

Officer #2 said:

“Ma’am step over by the cruiser. We need to have a talk”. I gave the plate to the previous owner and Officer #1 told us to have a nice day. My husband and I went ahead and left while previous owner went into the DMV.

The crazy was still ranting at Officer #2 about allowing us to take the car. Well, there was a happy ending. The previous owner texted me later that the crazy lady was in the back of the officer’s car when she left…still yelling.

brandyaidenluv

42. Age Ain’t Nothing But A Number

I’ve flown alone since I was 5, and when I turned 13 my parents said it was ok if I travel without a flight attendant observing me on my layovers as long as I text them when I’m boarding when I land. Fair enough.

This happened when I was 16. Now, I don’t look my age and never have. There’s a bad combination in my family, short genes, and a baby face. I was lucky enough to inherit both.

Well, flying was always the worst offense because I was alone. I also have bad anxiety and stutter a lot when I’m nervous, so it only adds to the age confusion more. I was coming back from New York and had a two-hour layover in Baltimore.

I decided to get some food at Chipotle. While I was eating at the food court, minding my own business and scrolling through my phone, this middle-aged, white, blonde woman with her two kids walk up to me.

We’ll just call her Karen.

She began asking if I was ok and if I was by myself—calling me honey the whole time. Oh great, here we go again. This wasn’t the first time this happened so I calmly told her that I was fine, and thanks for the concern. Well apparently, Karen didn’t like my answer. Her tone soon changed from a caring, concerned citizen to a demanding jerk.

She told me I wasn’t fine because I was a minor by myself and needed adult supervision to fly. She was correct about the minor part but the supervision part was a lie.

I was flying Southwest, who allows anyone 12 and older to travel by themselves, but someone is still supervising you on the flight until you’re 15. I did not need adult supervision to be in the airport past security alone, and I told her this.

I politely asked her to leave me alone and I understand the confusion. Karen wasn’t having it. She told me I was lying and that she knew the airport’s policy about minors. I said she didn’t and asked her to leave me alone. Then she said she wanted to speak to my parents.

At this point I was getting annoyed. I didn’t want to tell her about the fact my parents were divorced but back then I saw it as the only way for her to fully understand the situation and leave me alone.

I said: “Ma’am, I’m 16 years old, my mom is in Nashville waiting for me and my dad is New York. Neither of them are in this airport and they both know I’m by myself and are ok with it. I’m allowed to have a layover by myself and I’m not considered an unaccompanied minor when I’m 16 years old, according to the airline. Now please leave me alone”.

But she couldn’t stop herself. She told me I was lying and that there was no way I was 16.

I was getting mad at this point. For one, what right do you have to tell me how old I am? I stood up, put my food in my bag and told her, “I think I know how old I am”. She then asked for proof.

I took out my driver’s license—looking back I probably shouldn’t have but I was desperate for her to go away—with not only my birthday, but the fact I had one in the first place signified I was 16 or older.

I didn’t want to show this lady my other information so I let her see the birthday and nothing more. Karen wasn’t going to swallow her pride and walk away. She said I still shouldn’t be at the airport alone and that I could be running away from home. I wanted to tell her that even if I was it was none of her business.

I repeated Southwest policy to her and told her that if she still didn’t believe me she could go on their website and check for herself or ask an employee.

I then repeated for her to leave me alone or I’d get security. My bluff didn’t seem to affect her. She said I wasn’t going anywhere and I HAD to come with her and find my parents. I simply told her no and began reaching for my backpack.

The Karen grabbed my wrist and started pulling me. I yanked my wrist away, grabbed my backpack and stared running.

At that point, people were watching and her kids seemed distressed, but I didn’t care. I made a run for my gate.

Now I’m not very athletic but I’m definitely faster than this awful lady. I eventually made it to my gate and took a seat at one of the chairs. Still feeling uneasy, I told the lady at the gate what happened and that I was still shaken up.

She understood and said if she saw a woman matching the description near the gate she’d make sure she didn’t come near me, and if she did security would be alerted. Well, it turns out my gut was right.

After about an hour I saw her looking around the different gates, I told the lady and she nodded. She instructed me to get behind the desk as the Karen approached.

The woman began yelling at the gate agent.

All the same stuff from before—but this time she claimed I had a fake ID. I showed my boarding pass and ID to the gate agent. She reviewed it and said it looked fine.

Karen demanded the woman at the desk hand me over to her so she could take me to her gate and find my parents. This scared me.

I knew I wasn’t going anywhere with this woman, but it didn’t stop me from being scared. The woman still wouldn’t give up. She yelled:

“She’s rebellious and lying, I’m clearly more qualified to take care of her considering I have children and you don’t”! That did it. At this point, I could feel a panic attack coming on, the nice woman must’ve noticed this.

She told the Karen that either she goes to her gate and leaves me alone or security will be called.

Karen huffed and puffed, saying the front desk lady didn’t know her own airline policies and she’ll be calling 9-1-1 for child endangerment and Southwest was going to get shut down for this. The lady at the desk only nodded.

After Karen was done with her rant she walked away before security could come.

Before she left the lady asked her name so she could file a complaint for her (an obvious lie) and she told her.

We’ll just keep her name as Karen. The lady at the desk offered to find her gate, inform them of what happened and made sure she didn’t leave her gate to make me feel safer. I agreed and we found out her gate was in the international terminal.

Knowing this woman wanted to take me to a completely different terminal, the international terminal no less made me even more scared, but I was assured everything was going to be alright. Her gate was informed about the situation and they said that would make sure she wouldn’t leave the terminal once she arrived. It made me feel a lot better.

ThanosPurpleBoi

43. My House, My Rules

So I am now back at work one day a week as of this week, but since October I have been on maternity leave. For the first few weeks, we wanted total privacy as this pregnancy was pretty hard on me.

Most people respected it—but my husband’s sister did not. Now when I’m at home, especially being two weeks post-birth, I like to breastfeed without a shirt on

I use a frozen nipple cover over the breast not being used or tandem feeding. Very rarely when it is near feeding time will I wear a top or bra.

My husband is very happy with this arrangement and my daughters don’t mind it as long as I cover up if they have friends over, which is understandable since I don’t want to do it in front of a bunch of 10 and 7-year-olds.

So two weeks after I gave birth I had my newborn son on one side of me and my toddler son on the other tandem feeding. I wasn’t wearing a shirt, feeding, and sitting with my feet up watching a horror movie on the couch. Then I heard the front door unlock.

Now my husband gets home around 12 some days so I assumed it was him, completely forgetting that my sister-in-law has a spare key in case of emergencies.

I focus on my feeding then I hear her scream from the living room door.

I turn my head to look at her and she’s covering her husband’s eyes with one hand and taking off her shawl with another to drape around me. She comments on the “state” of the house.

Remember I had a 2-week old baby and a toddler in the house on my own. And how I am causing trauma to my kids and hurt her husband’s feelings by exposing him to my bare chest.

I told her if she didn’t like it then leave.

She threw some more insults and left. To this day she still wants me to apologize for breastfeeding shirtless in my own home that she walked into unannounced.

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44. Master Of Her Domain

I live in a block of six units.

A month ago the unit above mine went up for sale and sold fairly quickly and the new owner moved in less than a week ago. This morning I got up and went to take the garbage out and found a note stuck to my door.

I honestly thought it was a “I’m new to the building” kind of note, ya know? Oh, I could not have been more wrong!

It read: “Dear tenant, I recently bought your building and wished to introduce myself.

My name blah blah (not going to put her actual name) and I think you will find me a fair landlord. However I do have rules. Everyone is to be in their units by 9 pm.

If you’re going to be out past this I suggest you find accommodation elsewhere”.

But that’s not all. It went on: “No pets allowed. If you have any they must be relocated before I do an inspection or I will call the ranger to remove them.

This is the only warning. I will conduct an inspection once a month and you will be present to answer any questions or face eviction. Failure to pay rent on time will result in your eviction.

If we all follow these rules I’m sure we will get along, Sincerely blah blah”.

WHAT did I just read? Fun fact about my building: We all own our own units, nobody actually owns the WHOLE building!

I won’t lie, I got to the number 2 and had a slight panic attack because I have cats and there’s no way I was giving them away before I remembered we bought our unit just before Christmas.

We rented it from a friend prior and when she told me she was thinking about selling it we brought it, didn’t even have to move!

So in some ways it still feels like renting, but we actually own our unit.

Now I’m not great at confronting someone, I tend to shake a lot but at that moment I was quite angry so I went upstairs and knocked on her door. You know that gut feeling you have?

It was spot on. That door opened and there stood a Karen, her hair blonder than my own, her nails long and bright colored.

She didn’t look happy to see me there. I introduced myself and explained that I lived downstairs and that I wanted to talk to her about her note.

She started to talk over top of me, explaining that her letter was basic rules and even a child could understand it and if I didn’t like her rules I could hand in a letter to vacate.

Wow.

I would ask if people are really this up themselves but I work in retail and could answer my own question. I told her that I actually own my unit, she hadn’t bought it or the rest of the building but only her own unit and that she couldn’t enforce anything in her note.

She didn’t like that at all. She started yelling at me saying that yes she had indeed bought the whole building and that failure to comply with her rules would mean I would be evicted.

I was just starting to think maybe I was wrong when another neighbor opened his door. He came out and asked what the issue was about and could she stop screaming as he worked nights and was trying to sleep.

I told him I was trying to explain that she hadn’t bought the building and she started yelling again. My neighbor told her to stop and then said the best thing I had heard that day.

“Are you stupid”? Her jaw dropped as he explained to her how wrong she was and that he was in fact part of the strata committee (kind of like an HOA that oversees the building) and that she had no right to make rules for everyone.

She gave us dirty looks before slamming the door. I thanked him and he said in the entire time he lived there he hadn’t seen someone so entitled!

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45. Party For One

I have a co-worker who is really disorganized and waits until the last minute to schedule things and so that frequently means calling a meeting at 4:

00 on a Friday. For reference, my 8-hour workday ends at 3:00, so these meetings make for 10 hour + days, and because the coworker is so disorganized and unprepared, we frequently have to cover things that they should have done ahead of time, like creating an agenda or desired outcome, at the actual meeting.

Because these are required meetings (usually only once or twice a month), I have to go to them no matter when they’re scheduled, and get extended pay for working overtime, but my co-worker is supposed to give at least a week’s notice, and I’d definitely rather have the free time than the money. Typically if I don’t hear by Thursday afternoon that they have scheduled the meeting for 4:00 on a Friday, I make other weekend plans, like hiking or bicycling or going out somewhere.

Yesterday (Friday) the co-worker attempted to schedule the meeting at 4:45, but didn’t put it on my calendar until 3:05. I should have been off by then but I had an end of day meeting that went over by a few minutes so I was doing a last check of email and then shutting things down for the weekend.

I saw the meeting request and responded that that wasn’t enough notice for a meeting that far outside the workday.

I added that I normally would not have even seen the notice until the following Monday, and cc’ed my boss just so they knew I wasn’t trying to shirk any duties. Of course, coworker is upset because they’re required to hold the meeting and it’s the absolute last day to do it without filing an extension—which they’ve been told by my boss they’re not allowed to do unless there’s extenuating circumstances.

They’ve known about it for 2 months, they just didn’t plan for it. My boss calls at 3:

10 saying can you please do this now and end at 4:10 and we will address it on Monday, fine. I was planning on leaving town but I can leave a little bit later. Coworker responds to my boss by email and says they’re using personal time between 3:10 and 4:45 so they can’t hold the meeting until then—but that’s not the most infuriating part. 

They then say that nothing I’m doing could possibly be important enough that I can’t attend the meeting at 4:45. Boss calls coworker, coworker confessed that their child’s birthday party is at six that evening and that they have to go try to find a cake and party supplies for the party before the meeting, which is why they can’t be available.

The Boss gets annoyed and says that we (boss and I) will do the meeting now and coworker will have to answer for it on Monday.

Boss and I hold meeting, it takes 20 minutes, I’m out of there by 3:45. My co-worker sends me a nastygram by text at 10:15 pm saying it’s my fault they’re in trouble and that they have a child so I should understand that people with children come first, and that my activities/hobbies are pathetic.

They say it wouldn’t have been that hard for me to just attend the meeting they scheduled and that they’ll have to go back and fix everything my boss and I did incorrectly because they like to do it a specific way (my boss had already submitted it). I responded that I hope they enjoyed their child’s birthday party and to have a good weekend. Well, the funniest part was yet to come.

They respond that they forgot to invite people so no one came, and thanks for rubbing that in their face.

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46. Know Your Worth

This makes me hurt a little, because up to this point my sister was the only one I could mildly get along with within my family, but I guess she is my mother’s daughter so the entitlement shouldn’t have been a surprise.

My sister and brother-in-law are both essential, a law enforcement officer and doctor. So, they’ve needed someone to watch their kids now that school is canceled and a lot of daycare services aren’t around.

Even then the youngest one had been kicked out of two of them and finding a new one is difficult due to that. So I’ve been watching these kids 4-6 times a week depending on their schedule, anywhere between 7-12 hours a day.

I was told to wait until they got paid, then told to wait for the stimulus check to come in and they’d pay me for it.

At that point (and I do have the text) it was going to be $85 a week, regardless of that 4-6 times a week.

Well, they got the stimulus check-in. My sister gives me $55 and tells me that this was for the babysitting. I told her this wasn’t what we agreed on. I was told that I should be grateful because she has been feeding me.

No, she hasn’t. 

I bought my own food and tended to have to buy the food that these kids were eating for lunch. I was told it was just like “hanging out having fun” playing video games with my nephews. No, it was not. She knows her kids better to know they’re monsters.

They are both destructive. It’s a hassle since I have to chase one of them around all the time to prevent them from climbing shelves, or from getting out the front door because these kids were never taught to mind.

I refused to bring my gaming laptop for the older one to play anymore. I told him specifically if he wanted to play on it, he could only touch the wireless mouse and keyboard and play it at the desk, but not to touch the laptop.

So what does he do after getting bored with one game he begged me to let him play? Pick up the laptop and run with it and drop it.

I screamed at him—not my best moment—and he had the attitude of a teenage valley girl of “Whatever. Accidents happen, that’s why they’re accidents.

If it breaks, you can just buy a new one,” to which I told him HE would be the one to replace the $1,600 computer. But since that day, he’s been whining about me not bringing it over for him to play with.

I have to deal with these kids assaulting me all the time and not being able to do a thing about it. These kids are MONSTERS and the only reason I agreed to do this was because she was my sister and she needed the help, but I was supposed to be compensated for my time away from MY own work.

I work commission-based jobs at home, but I can’t work on it around them as there’s no pause for me to do it less the younger one would probably run away and get hit by a truck.

I know it’ll probably be terrible of me if I just don’t show up for the next few days until they start paying me what they at the very least owed me, but on the other hand, I really just don’t want to be around those kids.

Cookiedoughjunkie

47. Not With A Bang, But A Whimper

So, my boyfriend and I moved into an apartment in August. It’s older so the floors are super creaky. According to our lease, we’re obligated to cover 90% of any room with carpet (except bathroom and kitchen) to help with noise. It turned out our apartment was previously managed as a dorm by the local college, so the floors already have a layer of super thin cheap carpet.

We also laid down more rugs to help with noise cancellation. Our downstairs neighbor moves in about a month later, and within a month of that, starts banging on her ceiling when we get too rowdy.

The first couple of times, it happened super late in the living room—our apartments have the same floor plan. We were moving around after midnight the first time.

Later she came to talk to us and asked us to keep it down at night.

Sure, fair enough. The next time, was when we walked in from the airport at 10 pm. She came up, banged on the door, and talked over my explanation. I told her I was sorry and asked when she was hearing the noise, assuming it was just the cat running around at night.

No, she tells me that she knows it’s not the cat, she knows it’s us, and she doesn’t live alone. Okay, weird but whatever. We started going to bed earlier as we settled into the apartment and our jobs, but the banging only continued.

For months, she would hit her ceiling/our floor whenever we walked around. Bed at 10? BANG. Wake up at 5:30 for work? BANG. Sitting on the couch but decide you want snacks? BANG.

Around Christmas, she comes up to our door again.

My boyfriend answered and this time, I recorded. I’m so glad I did. This woman came up and looked my boyfriend in the eye and said “You have to stop following me”. Uhhh? What?

She says: “I know it’s not the cat or the dog or your girlfriend, because I know your footsteps. I don’t know how you figured it out, but you’ve figured out how to listen to where I am and you’re following me around my apartment and I’m sick of it”.

My boyfriend calmly responded that she sounds crazy and that we don’t care about her. She again reminded us that she doesn’t live alone. Her boyfriend is a small Latino man in his 60s who is very polite and has never said a word to us.

Cool, she’s insane, whatever. The banging continued with us stomping every time we heard it. She didn’t like that, but it made it more fun.

We’d already explained the situation to the landlord and the super and they were on our side. Our town was the first in the US to be locked down under quarantine, so for the first few days, the banging gradually increased until one day this woman lost her mind.

I’ll admit that we’re early risers on the weekends. On this particular Sunday, we ended up waking up super early, but not doing much for the first few hours.

We drank some coffee and sat on the couch until almost 11.

At that point, we decided to get up and clean the apartment. That’s when she lost her mind. She had to be running from one end of her apartment to the other. She’s banging her ceiling so hard that we’re convinced she’s damaging it. At one point, I hear what sounds like muffled yelling after she followed me into the bedroom.

We had plans that day, so we ignored her, finished cleaning, and started to leave. She must’ve been waiting for us to leave, because for the first time ever, she walked out of her apartment right as we go to her landing. I was holding the dog while waiting for my boyfriend to come down as she starts to descend the stairs.

Of course, she decides to turn around and say something. She says: “Tell your boyfriend to cut it out”. I say: “Cut what out? Walking? You’re hitting the ceiling because of me and the dog moving, not him”. She continues to spew some other dumb stuff as my boyfriend gets down to me. She proceeded to stay exactly three steps ahead of him, slowing us all the way down the stairs.

She tried to block us going out the door at the bottom, but backed off when he just didn’t stop moving. She’s continuing to yell at him all the way to the parking lot. Of myself and my boyfriend, he’s typically the hot head while I’m the calm one. Amazingly, he kept his calm the whole time, calling her only a crazy lady and ignoring her as he walked past her and her car to the dumpster.

As I passed her car, she decided to continue talking at me, and I was just furious that I couldn’t engage. She said: “I’m serious, it’s done”. I replied: “Okay, what do you want us to do, crawl?

I already told you we have a 60 lb. dog, and we’re all just walking around”. She was talking over me, saying: “And you need to remember that I don’t live alone”.

I was like…okay…neither do I? You see my boyfriend right there, so what’s your point. By the way, that’s the third or fourth time you’ve said that and that could be taken as a threat. She says: “You think it’s a threat? Fine, it is”. I said, “Cool, I’m calling 9-1-1”. She goes:

“Okay me too”. So, we both call the authorities, and they pull up.

They talk to her first and then come talk to us. I don’t know what she told them, but when they came to talk to us, I told them everything she’d said and done for the past six months. The officer explained that it was a civil matter that would have to be dealt with by the landlord, but ensured us that they explained to her that it is perfectly acceptable to WALK AROUND YOUR APARTMENT AT 11 AM ON A SUNDAY.

They also told her not to knock on our door ever again and that she’s not allowed to bang on our floor over footsteps at any point. For a couple of nights, she got back at us by banging at 1:

30 am to wake us up. We had already reached out to our landlord again and this time, he told us he’d see what her problem is. That’s still not the last of his troubles with her though.

We ended up talking to the people that live below her and telling them about the banging.

It turns out, they’ve heard it this whole time and had no idea what it was. Now that they know, they’ve also reported her to the landlord. The banging has stopped, we don’t expect her lease to be renewed, and we may end up in a better apartment in the next couple months.

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Entitled peopleShutterstock

48. The Wicked Stepmother Comes To Life

So, for some background, I only had one parent in my life, as my father was abusive.

My mother gained full custody and my father had extremely supervised visits—like a social worker had to watch me with him. He never made an appointment to see me. My mother told me what happened, when she thought I was ready.

I was about 15/16.

When I turned 20, a lady who wasn’t more than three years older than me contacts me. I mistake her for a person I’d seen in school. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Shortly after, I found out she was engaged to my father, and had a son with him.

Big age difference. She was 23, my father 57. Then, I got into contact with my father.

I never met him, as he lived in New Hampshire while I live in Iowa. We never got close. A month later, my father passed suddenly.

Shortly after, his fiancée—I’ll call her stepmom, even though she isn’t really—lost custody of my half-brother. The authorities put him up for adoption due to her substance problems. That’s when I got a heartbreaking message.

They asked if I would adopt him, as he was my half-brother.

I had to decline because I didn’t have the space or money at the time. Around this time, I met my now-husband. Fast forward a few years. I am now 25, my husband 26. I have just given birth to our daughter three weeks ago.

Right now, there are four people at the house.

Me, my husband, the baby, and my 56-year-old mother. My mom is high risk, and she wants to be around to help with my daughter. When my daughter was two weeks old, I posted some photos of me, my husband, my mother, and our daughter together.

It took us some time with the photos but we figured it out. I posted them on Facebook.

About an hour later, I get a comment from my “stepmom” to check my messages. I check and here’s what they said: “Hey, I’m gonna be coming over tomorrow to see my granddaughter. I’m so excited to meet her. I’ll stay in the guest room”. I should note she still lives in New Hampshire, and I still live in Iowa.

I wrote back: “Sorry, we can’t. My baby and my mother are high risk and I’m still learning a routine with my daughter. My mother is also using the guest bedroom”.

I didn’t get a response after this.

Next morning, there’s a knock at the door. I thought it could be a package I ordered, so I go answer it. When I opened it, I was furious. It’s my “stepmom” saying: “Hey! I’m here to see my granddaughter”!

My stepmom tries to open the door, but I push back”.I told you couldn’t come. There isn’t room for you and there are high-risk people here. Please leave”.

She says: “But I have a right to see my grandbaby.

Your father would want me to meet her. I’m her family. ” She tries to give me puppy eyes. I say: “I’m not really wanting to deal with this right now. Leave,” and I shut the door.

All seems well—until yesterday. She came over again and this time since I was busy with the baby, my husband handled her and threatened her with calling the authorities.

She leaves after throwing a fit.

Last night, when my baby is asleep, I got a text from her. “Why didn’t you let me see my granddaughter, I’m her grandma! I came all this way to see her and you deny me seeing her.

I just wanted to hold her! Your father would have wanted me to see her”! I had to respond to this. I said: “You’re not my child’s grandma. Only my mother and my husband’s mother are grandmas”.

I continue:

“You weren’t married to my father, only engaged. I don’t trust you with her either, as I have no clue if you’re still using or recovering. I don’t trust you either as you lost custody of my half-brother.

I don’t care what my father would want, as he was barely in my life, three months max if you include when I was born. Right now, I have multiple people in my home who are high risk.

I told you you couldn’t come over, but you did anyway”.

I shut off my phone after this to get the little sleep I can get. Sometime this morning after I rocked and fed my daughter.

I got a text from my “stepmom,” asking for money for the hotel she stayed at. I hit decline and she sends it again, saying I owe her, since she couldn’t stay at my place.

I declined again and blocked her.

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49. That Takes The Steak

This still makes me sort of angry giggle when I think about it. So, last year was my mum’s 60th birthday. With lockdown, we couldn’t do a big party, but instead I did a socially distanced meal for her, my dad, and me.

She wanted a steak dinner with all the trimmings. I went down to the supermarket a few days beforehand. Said supermarket has these specially cut steaks in vacuum packs, and a deal of 3 for £10.

I was choosing steaks and noticed a woman close by doing the same and picking up several.

I took my three, put them in my trolley, and moved on. I moved on, got the remainder of my list, then thought of getting something else. I moved away from my trolley whilst choosing.

When I turned back, I made a disturbing discovery. 

The customer from before was leaning over my trolley. I told her that it was mine she replied: “I know, I’m just taking one of your steaks”. I asked why, and she said “I got 14 and I need one more”. I said: “I have three!

You’re not taking one of mine”. I deliberately pulled my trolley away from her at this point. She said: “You have to! I need it for the multideal”!

I replied: “And I need it to feed three people.

No”. She was red in the face at that point, and she yelled, “I’ll go get a manager then”! I told her to go ahead. She runs off and I finish choosing my items. Five minutes later, I’m waiting to get checked out when the lady comes over with a manager.

She stood back with this smug look I could see through her mask while the manager came over.

The manager says: “Ma’am, this lady says you took one of her steaks. Is that true”? I said: “No. I picked up three at the freezer, and later on found her leaning over my trolley and saying she’d take one.

She said she needs it for the multideal”. The manager sighed. His reply blew me away. He said: “I knew it. She does this. I’m sorry to trouble you, enjoy your day”.

I replied: “You too.

Good luck with her”. The manager sighed again and walked away. As I checked out, I saw him guiding her away from the till points. A few minutes later, I heard a “security to the meat aisle” announcement as I was leaving. The steaks were lovely.

But not worth stealing from someone else’s trolley.

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50. She Said Yes To The Dress—Twice

Back in 2016, my brother John announced that he and his girlfriend Jane of many years were engaged and were planning on having a wedding the following year.

They gave nine months’ notice at least to people who would be invited and also told them what the color theme for the wedding would be (purple). In that time between the announcement and the wedding date, I was easily able to order a dress from an online retailer in London, have it sent to me, and still had time to replace if I needed.

2017 comes and the wedding weekend has arrived. I live in a different state from my brother, as my mum and I moved from our hometown back in 2013, so we both had to travel across the ocean back to the mainland to attend the wedding.

The wedding was absolutely gorgeous. Sunny day, on the beach, I couldn’t help but cry because my piece-of-work of a brother was actually marrying the mother of his children and love of his life.

He had never seemed happier. John and Jane had three kids together already, and the older two were flower girls which was sweet. Now, John is technically only my half-brother, we share a mum but not a dad.

Yet growing up, it was my dad who raised John and me, so to him, my dad was his dad. My dad, prior to marrying my mum, had a first wife and a couple kids with that wife, including Susan.

John and I have always had some issues with Susan. She was only my half-sister, not John’s, but he still included her in the wedding and such as a family member and guest. I hadn’t noticed at the time, as I was too caught up in the whirlwind of my brother’s wedding ceremony, but Susan wasn’t wearing purple.

No, no. She was wearing white. To be specific, she was wearing HER WHITE WEDDING DRESS to someone else’s wedding.

John and Jane were furious. Especially Jane. Cue reception, some people have changed clothes, it was my first ever wedding so I didn’t think that far ahead and still wore my soft lilac dress without a problem while everyone ate and shared some drinks, interacted with the bride and groom, what I assume to be normal wedding things.

But Susan. Oh, Susan, Susan, Susan.

She was feeling extremely sad and lonely because no one was paying attention to her: the 30+-year-old woman who wore her wedding dress to someone else’s wedding. I wonder why no one wanted to interact with her?

So she began acting out. Susan began crying maybe halfway through the reception.

Openly, loudly, and in a way that clearly begged for someone to come notice her. I’m a nice person, so I tried to be the good half-sister I should be and took the L to go sit with her for a little while, ask her what’s wrong.

Susan: “No one is paying attention to me”! Me, while staring at her confused a little: “What do you mean”? I couldn’t believe how clueless her answer was.

Susan: “Everyone is talking with John and Jane but no one is talking to me!

And when I try to speak with John and Jane, they don’t talk to me”! I sighed internally, and couldn’t help but wonder how she didn’t connect the dots. Me: “Susan, it’s their wedding.

Of course everyone is going to be talking to them and they’re going to be busy”. Susan: “I don’t care! I’m John’s sister, so he should talk with me more”.

Actually, lady, you’re not his sister.

I am. But okay, whatever. I was able to slip away and spent time with some other family who weren’t acting as if this day was all about them. After the ceremony, Jane admitted to me she was livid about how Susan wore the wedding dress.

She had plenty of time to plan for the wedding and get appropriate attire but when finally confronted, Susan said she had no other dress she could wear.

Even three, nearly four, years later I’m still angry at my half-sister for doing that. My mum, John, and Jane are also angry about it still. I’ve since cut contact with Susan.

Her and I never had a good bond anyway and as far as I could see it, we just shared a dad but I almost never had to deal with my dad’s previous family.

As far as I know, John and Jane have limited contact with her but that can’t be helped as they live in the same city as her now while I happily live in a place where an ocean is between me and her.

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51. When You’re Here, You’re Family—As In, Annoying

So, first off, it’s 9:45. We close at 10 PM. This table of three walks in, and they’re in my section. I greet them, things start as usual. I’m just upset they came in so late, but whatever.

They end up wanting a Tour of Italy, which comes with fettuccine alfredo, lasagna, and chicken parmigiana. We had been out of lasagna since 8 PM, so I asked her if she wanted to substitute it for something.

She mumbled that she should get it for free since we were out, but she subbed it for something. About 30 minutes pass, I had already brought out their food and such. She wanted to try all of our soups as she had also bought the soup/salad bundle.

We have four soups. Minestrone, chicken and gnocchi, pasta fagioli, and zuppa toscana.

The last soup she hadn’t tried was the minestrone, but we were completely out. I told her this and she got very, very upset.

At the end, she asked for extra alfredo sauce to take home, and I told her we didn’t have any more alfredo. This was now 40 minutes past closing. She freaked out and demanded to talk to my manager.

I got him, laughing with him about her behavior, and he went to talk to her. She flipped her lid, going off about how we shouldn’t be open this late if we can’t offer full service. Excuse me?

We AREN’T OPEN. We closed FORTY minutes ago. She went on about how her meal should be free because we were out of everything, and how we handed her a full menu but we didn’t have it all.

My manager didn’t give her a single free thing off of her ticket, because he realized how entitled she was sounding. When I walked over at the end to hand her change back I heard her mumbling about “the terrible service,” and prior to that she had said “guess we shouldn’t come here again before closing”.

Good, please don’t ever come back.

cR_Spitfire

52. The Best Revenge Is Walking Away

This was when I was 18—I’m 34 now—so 2004-2005. Think pre-iPhone, but cell phones like the Nokia 3310 exist, which I had because my parents wanted to make sure I always could be contacted.

I worked at a chain restaurant for six months, let’s call it C. It was a completely new store. When we opened, we were the only building for eight blocks except for the sister restaurant next door that was part of the same investment group.

It was a decent upper-middle-class white neighborhood, so we’d get lots of people in the door. I was originally hired as To Go, but I was trained up in almost everything in the restaurant, and I frequently filled shifts, and I got the most hours for it.

But it was the worst job I ever had, and still is. After getting shifted around to different homes, from To Go to QA to Host (sometimes Server), I eventually ended up in bus…AKA, cleaning tables.

They promised they would move me off of bus once we had bussers, but, as we’ll find out later, that day never came.

The main reason this happened is that we ran out of bussers. They tried hiring bussers at a rapid rate, but it didn’t work. The average survival rate for a busser was dismal. It was just two weeks, including training time.

Eventually, our reputation of chewing out bussers made its rounds. No one would even show up for interviews for the job. See, at C, a pecking order had been established. At the top, you had the managers, then it was the servers, then it was the bar servers, restaurant servers, etc.

Guess what was at the bottom? That’s right, bussers.

Any time I spoke up about how people needed to pre-bus their tables, the reaction was brutal. People scoffed and said I should just do my job.

I explained how I could clear an entire restaurant by myself if everyone pre-bussed their tables (30 seconds per table vs 8 minutes per table). Deaf ears. So, I have to explain why there’s a huge time differential between a pre-bussed table and a total-bus table.

If the servers took every plate off the table, even if the table was grody, I could wipe it into my bucket, clean up a few things, wipe off the seat, reset the center of the table, and move on to the next table.

I’d be in and out in 30 seconds and onto the next table. However, if I had to total bus a table, I’d have to take all of the plates and organize everything on the tab.

Well, two months into my “We’re going to move you off of bussing once we find bussers,” it’s a busy Saturday night. I’m talking one hour wait already, at 6:30 pm. Half the tables are currently dirty, and I’m working my behind off, but each table takes about five minutes because no one is pre-bussing tables. I’m told the priority is the restaurant, so I had to tell the bar waiters that they probably wouldn’t be bussed at all because it would be so busy.

They were not having that. The on-shift AM (Assistant Manager) told me I should do my job, but I should still prioritize the restaurant, not the bar. Whatever. I’m constantly telling servers to pre-bus their tables, only to be ignored.

It was a particularly bad night, so I asked if the dishwashers could help me out when I brought back my tabs instead of organizing everything myself.

They were nice, so they agreed, and it was a decent system, it cut out 2-3 minutes per table.

It was still pretty awful, with lots of people wanting food. It still didn’t help that I had to go back to the kitchen every time there was a full bus table. Enter Karen, Queen of the Bar Servers.

Remember that pecking order I mentioned? Yeah, she was the queen of the server order.

She was one of the ones that constantly berated me for my job performance, despite the fact that I did more than almost anyone else in the restaurant.

She made my last two months a living nightmare, constantly telling me I didn’t do a good job, that she had to wait for me too long, etc. I constantly told the AMs and Manager about the disrespect I received, and they said “I should just man up”.

She never got a single write-up.

One particularly busy Saturday night, Karen was a server in the bar side, which meant, she wasn’t the priority. I told her that I couldn’t bus her tables unless she pre-bussed them, and only if there weren’t restaurant tables I needed to bus.

She was constantly telling me I needed to bus HER tables and I was lazy, despite the fact that I had lifted over 300 tabs that night, she wasn’t the priority.

She didn’t pre-bus any of her tables, and she was always at the back dock taking a smoke break.

That night, a nice couple saw me working on the table behind them, and politely asked if they could talk to their server so they could take their order. She had left them alone for 15 minutes while she was out there on the back dock flirting with one of the prep cooks.

She scoffed when I interrupted her flirting.

Oh, I’m sorry, Karen, I’m sorry I interrupted your sixth flirting break today so you can do the thing you were hired to do. About 6:30 pm that night, the restaurant got flooded with people.

One hour waits, and I had to push myself to the limit. I was flipping tables, despite absolutely zero of the servers pre-bussing.

However, since the restaurant was the priority, I couldn’t get to her tables at all.

Finally, we got a dip. I could finally get to her three tables, and none of them were pre-bussed. So, I have to do the full bussing for her tables, despite the fact that they have been vacant for almost 45 minutes!

After the first table, she follows me back to the second table and tells me I need to hurry and I’m garbage at my job.

She tells me I’m making her lose money.

I tell her to leave me alone and don’t reprimand me in the front of the house. It was embarrassing, with bar patrons looking over their shoulder. I could see they honestly felt sorry for me.

I was at the lowest point in my life at that point in time. I honestly felt like I was the worst human being in the world. Once she left, I stopped bussing for a second and sat down at the table for a breath.

I looked at the dirty half-full tab, and I got up. The table wasn’t finished, and I left my dirty tab on the seat. I went to the To Go area in the back.

It wasn’t active, and this was before widespread internet. We got maybe 15 orders per night, so the managers had relegated To Go duties to the QA that serviced the rest of the restaurant. It was easily accessible for them, but it was also vacant at that point in time, since phone-in to-go orders were a relatively new and novel concept.

I knew just what to do. I put down my headset, turned it off, pulled out a To Go pad, and wrote a full note noting how this restaurant is going to go down the toilet unless the managers grow a pair and reprimand the staff for treating bussers like garbage. I then left, without telling anyone.

I was called on my cell phone about 5 minutes into my drive home.

The assistant manager told me “You still have a shift”. My response was, “No, I don’t. I quit”. Their response: “You still have a shift”. Again, my response was, “No, I don’t need to be disrespected like I have.

I quit”. She had the gall to repeat herself, “You still have a shift”. I hung up, and turned off my phone. It turned out that I left just in time for the dinner rush.

Saturdays we closed at midnight, so, for those last four hours it was the worst night ever. I was told that the AM prevented anyone from going home until 2 am because the restaurant was basically a trash basket by the end.

Wait times at 10 pm were capped because they were WELL over two hours. Hosts told me later on that she had to turn away 40 families that night.

Some people just left while waiting for a table.

Orders were getting misplaced. This information made it up to corporate, and they had to call in a fixer team to figure out what happened. They wanted to call me, but I wasn’t going to talk to them.

There was some restructuring in the business, the manager got “shifted to another position in the company,” and the AM that called on staff was let go.

Karen got wrote up, relegated to the bad shifts, and eventually left. I didn’t return for two months—this time, not as an employee, but as a customer. I was told all this by one of the remaining AMs, the one that actually treated me like a human being, and he gave me all of my tip-shares, which was nice.

But there was a twist ending to it all. 

The day after I left C, my best friend found an ad from a huge video game company that was looking for QAs. We applied that day and the following week, I got interviewed and hired on the spot.

It was the beginning of my programming career. I advanced through that job, got over to automation programming, then got hired at other companies.

Now, I’m a senior programmer for a sheriff’s office, with 14 years of programming experience.

Imper1um

53. Persistence Doesn’t Always Pay Off

My cousins go to a VERY ELITE PRIVATE all-boys school grade 6-12 in the New England region of the United States. So it’s not uncommon to encounter an entitled parent and kid here or there.

Now, let me state that my cousins are not entitled. They apply for financial aid and have campus jobs to afford the $60k a year tuition.

My older cousin is the student body president of the school.

Because of this, he gets a room that is 1200 square feet, has a fully functional kitchen, and bathroom. The room also had a large living space, balcony, and office. The other rooms just have two beds, two closets, one desk, and a small window.

They’re around 150 square feet.

Because my little cousin is related to the president, he was allowed to live in the room versus the standard dorms. My cousin’s roommate was also the student body treasurer, so the dean allowed him to live in the room too, because he was my cousin’s friend.

With three guys living together, there was a surplus of video games and junk food, just guys being guys.

With the new semester starting, student body officers have to help with orientation, helping the parents get the first-year students settled in.

This turned into a total disaster. Because little cousin was already settled in, he was just playing games on the PS4 with the door open. Queue entitled mom and kid. Mom: (Nice at first) “Excuse me”? My cousin: “Yes”?

Entitled mom: “I am looking for my son’s dorm and I can’t find it.

Can you help me”? My cousin: “Hey, I’m new here myself so I don’t know much. My brother is responsible for helping first years, so let me call him”. Entitled mother and her son wait for about 25 minutes for my older cousin to arrive.

This whole time, my little cousin was playing games with the new kid on the PS4, eating junk food, and showing them around the room.

That’s when my older cousin arrives. He says: “Hey, you must be the mom trying to find her son’s dorm”? The entitled mom, now rude, says:

“Yes I’ve been waiting for someone to help me”! My older cousin first disregards her tone, as orientation day is hard. My older cousin goes on his phone with the info that the mom gives, and directs her.

Apparently, entitled kid only lives down the hallway to the left. Entitled mom leaves with the kid and his luggage. The entitled kid says in that gosh-awful voice as he’s leaving, “I wanna play more games”.! Entitled mom says:

“You can later”. Older Cousin has this “JEEZ” look on his face, closes the door, and plays on the PS4 with my little cousin. 10 minutes later, they are interrupted by a terrifying noise.

There are loud bangs on the door.

My older cousin sees who it is. It’s the entitled mom and her brat. They have returned with his luggage. She screams “I need your help NOW”! as the brat runs to the PS4.

My cousin asks: “Uh, what seems to be the problem”? She starts whining: “My son’s room is small! It’s not like this one! Who do we talk to about this”?!

My cousin says:

“Um, I’m sorry If you’re unsatisfied with your living situation you’ll have to talk to a counselor about his situation, and nobody has a room like this one because I’m the president”. The entitled kid starts rummaging through games and yells:

“DO YOU HAVE FORTNITE”!? My cousin asks him to put the games down.

The entitled mom snaps. She yells: “Don’t talk to my son that way! Besides, my son needs more living space DO SOMETHING”! The whole time, the entitled kid is still rummaging.

That’s when my little cousin then pushes him to the side and locks the game cabinet. He starts screaming. At that moment, their roommate was also returning to the room with his lunch.

The kid screams:

“I WANNA PLAY GAMES”! My little cousin replies: “This is our room and you can’t use my things if I don’t want you to”. The kid just keeps screaming, and roommate asks: “What’s going on”? That’s when the entitled mother interrupts, yelling: “These boys won’t help me find a room like this one for my son”! The roommate replies:

“Oh, that’s impossible, this is the only room that is like this one. Besides, this room is only for the president”.

That really sets the entitled mom off. She asks, condescendingly, “Then how come YOU’RE HERE”? The roommate explains the whole situation.

The entitled mom then says to my older cousin and his roommate: “You should let my son live here”. Entitled kid overhears his mom. He now thinks that he lives in the room. He goes to the fridge and tries to get a soda.

My little cousin blocks him and says: “You are not our guest, nor do you live here, don’t touch our food”. The kid immediately screams: “This is my room too! AND YOU HAVE TO SHARE”! My older cousin asks her to get her kid out, because he is a nuisance and bothering my brother.

She says no. My older cousin and his roommate are not having it.

They ask her politely, yet firmly to leave. Her reaction was infuriating. The entitled mother walks in and proceeds to UNPACK her son’s luggage.

Entitled Kid is also having a fit because my little cousin isn’t letting him have any food. He yells at his mom about it, and she says she’ll help him after she unpacks his things. My older cousin and his roommate firmly tell her “Your son is NOT living here”.

The woman replies:

“Yes he is. My son is an angel. You should be glad to be friends with him”! My cousin replies: “I am not interested in living or being friends with your son, leave now”! The entitled mom ignores my older cousin and continues to unpack with her entitled kid still screaming” I want donuts”! He then screams at my little cousin:

“I wanna play your games”!

My little cousin says “no”. The kid then starts screaming high-pitched. The three of them have had enough of this charade and they proceed to drag them out and throw his luggage in the hallway and lock the door.

Entitled mom and son continue to bang and howl. Entitled mom “PROMISES” that she’ll get her son back in. So she leaves.

At this time, friends were coming over and someone accidentally let the entitled kid in the room.

Confused, the new people ask who he is. He claims he lives there, and then starts demanding to use the PS4. My older cousin sees him and kicks him out again. With him shouting “I WANT TO STAY”! his mom then returns with a security guard.

The mom says: “These boys kicked my son of out of HIS ROOM! DO SOMETHING”! The guard replies: “Lady, I know for a fact that your son doesn’t live here”. She says: “He needs to stay here this room is much better than the other ones”! The security guard then asks if the mom is bothering them, and everybody says yes.

He says “I’ll take care of the mom”—but that’s not the best part. 

He asks my cousins to take care of the kid. The entitled kid is dragged out again. The mom was escorted off the campus grounds.

My older cousin and his roommate forcibly moved the entitled kid into his room for him. My little cousin ended up becoming friends with the entitled kid’s roommate as the months passed. The entitled kid has been so bratty and annoying that his roommate has had sleepovers with my cousins almost every night.

Because of this, the entitled kid packs an overnight bag and almost always follows his roommate and demands to be let in.

My cousins and the two roommates have to turn the volume on the TV louder to tune out his pleas and crying. One day, they woke to him sleeping in front of their door at 6 am.

He stayed there for 10 HOURS.

leos1023

54. He Was Diabetic, She Was Diabolical

I am a 16-year-old guy. I’m pretty normal. I play video games, hang out with friends, have a good job, all that. But the only abnormal thing about me is that I have type 1 diabetes.

I have been diagnosed for about a bit more than a year and a half. I’ve kept good control over it and the doctors are always impressed when I have a check-up.

Bragging aside, I am a junior in a pretty small high school in the middle of Kansas.

One of the things I do is I take insulin 10 to 15 minutes before I eat so it has time to get into effect. With the school lunch there are two options: a chicken salad and a cheeseburger.

I decided to go with the cheeseburger. I take my insulin and go up the line.

There are two separate tables each with two white to go boxes with the food in them. I grab a box from the left table and before I take two steps my friend points out to me that that’s the salad. I set the box back down and go to grab the other box but the lunch lady shouts at me.

“Hey, don’t you dare”! I look at her and she looks at me like I just slapped a puppy in the face.

I ask what’s wrong and she said that I had already grabbed the salad so I have to take the salad. (Note.

I didn’t even open the box). I explained to her that I’m a diabetic and already took insulin. She shakes her head and says in a sickly sweet tone, “I’m sorry, that’s not my problem. Take the salad and go sit down now”!

I tried once more to tell her the situation but she just pointed at the salad table and tells me to take the salad or I don’t get anything. I’m a little angry at this point so I take the salad and go off to my table with my friends and tell them the situation. They removed the vending machines in the cafeteria over the summer so there was no way for me to get the correct amount of carbs without stealing another kid’s cheeseburger.

One of my friends tells me I should go get the principal quickly before the insulin fully sets in.

I go to the office and tell him and the counselor the situation a little panicked because it had been well over 10 minutes since I took insulin. I’m very tight with the principal so he walked me back up to the cafeteria and talked to the lunch lady.

He tells her “LL, give him the cheeseburger. He really needs it”. She responds to him by saying.

“But he already took a salad. He can deal with it”. Principal just sighs, grabs the cheeseburger box, shoves it into my hands, and tells me to go sit down. I listen to him and walk back to the table.

I sit relatively close to the lunch line so I and my friends can barely hear the principal talk to her. “How you acted was truly out of line. I thought you understood to treat his and (other diabetic kids) situation with care and understanding”.

He went on for another minute and ended up just telling her off and heading back to his office and I ate in peace.

I’m glad that she got told off and maybe she’ll know better next time.

BraxHecker

55. Over There, They Call Her Karine

I work at a company that has over 300 sites globally. I work in the only plant in the UK (we have 22 people working here).

I was asked to join a call with our other European sites, as I also speak German fluently, and can understand/speak Italian to a level about the industry I work in. So we have this call and we have English (me), Greek, Turkish, Romanian, Italian, German, Spanish, and French on the meeting.

Everyone other plant has management, and all can speak English. So we go about the meeting, and the German starts talking to me in German, I’m translating, and it’s all going well, we all know each other well, as we have regularly visited each others’ plants. Apart from France, they have a new woman, Karen, who keeps trying to be center of attention.

She’s been speaking fluent English all through the call so far, I’m translating for German and Italian, it’s all going well. Until Karen starts speaking French, I told her I didn’t know French—it’s already confusing enough with three languages—the conversation goes as follows. Karen: “What do you mean?

You’re the translator”!

Me: “No, I’m a chemist, I know German fluently, and Italian to a level that is relevant to this call”. K: “Well why are you making me speak a second language, but learning everyone else’s”!? M: “I’m doing the company a favor, otherwise they would have to get a translator”. K: “Oh, I get it, it’s because I’m new and a woman”. M: (I’m also a woman), “No, I just never learned French”.

Here’s where I really lost it. She yelled at me:

“Oh, so it’s a race thing now”?! I replied, “You speak English, you don’t need it to be translated, or it to be all about you”. Karen hung up, and the next day reported me to HR for discrimination.

I don’t think she realized that the call was recorded, So I sent a copy to HR.

Unfortunately for her, at my company, you have a six-month probation. She’s only on month three. Throwing out stupid accusations like this means you’re probably not going to make it.

LasagneFiend

56. Finders Ain’t Keepers

I am both autistic and have severe PTSD. I’m on a few different medications for depression and migraines and have to live in section 8 housing that I just moved into a few months ago after being on the waiting list for years.

I don’t like being touched or loud noises. And I certainly don’t like seeing anyone take my stuff.

When I moved to this city for the section 8 housing I’d been gifted a brand new razor kick scooter by a friend to get around my new area with.

And I love it. It’s black and made a bit sturdier than typical ones for an adult to ride and has bigger wheels. It also isn’t sold in the local stores, but they have similar-looking ones in the bike department.

Obviously, I don’t just leave it outside when I go into a store. I fold it up and put it in my cart while shopping. I look kinda twitchy so most people leave me alone.

And I’m just fine with that. But touch me without consent or take my stuff and be ready for a massive freakout. I went down the canned food aisle and started browsing the chunky soup.

When I picked what I’d wanted and put the cans in the cart, I noticed my scooter was gone. And there was a woman with a kid fast walking away while carrying it. I shouted after them to return my scooter.

But they ignored me so I abandoned my cart to give chase. When I caught up to the lady and the kid I tried to take my scooter back and the kid screamed so loud my eardrums felt like they were gonna pop.

The Karen mom shoved me down while yelling something I didn’t hear because my ears were ringing and my brain just stopped working for a moment. A manager noticed the commotion and came to see what the trouble was.

I didn’t even get a chance to speak when the Karen mom started calling me a creep and was demanding I be thrown out.

I kept trying to explain what really happened, but the Karen just kept yelling over me.

We were separated and I was made to sit in an office. The manager approached me and I asked him where my scooter was and he admonished me and said it was sold to the Karen, and I shouldn’t have tried to take it from the kid when they were just trying to buy it from the store.

Then he pointed out he had to give the Karen a discount just because of the situation. I understandably freaked out and told him that the Karen had taken my scooter that I came into the store with.

And it wasn’t sold there. The manager just looked confused and I nearly broke down. Then I pulled my phone out and showed him a picture a friend had taken of me with the scooter right after I’d gotten it.

The next thing I knew he was running out of the room. And when he finally came back he said that the Karen was long gone. I pulled out my phone back out and started frantically calling 9-1-1.

I couldn’t believe what the manager tried to do. He put his hand over my phone to stop me from calling and I freaked out from him touching me. He backed off because I’d nearly kicked him and was panicking and saying he’d buy me another scooter from the store.

I told him that my scooter was expensive and didn’t come from their store. And I wanted mine back. Well, it turned out I had managed to dial 9-1-1 because the operator was already listening in on the line and was trying to get my attention. I just told them to send someone over because my property had been stolen.

I had to wait for another hour at least while authorities showed up and then went through the CCTV footage.

It clearly showed me entering the store with the scooter, and showed the Karen and her crotch goblin taking it from my cart.

And the mess that followed when I tried to get it back. I wanted my scooter back and officers had to find the Karen from the camera footage of the parking lot. They found her address by running her plate number they got from the camera footage and I got to ride in the back of their car while we went to her apartment.

The officer knocked on her door and I didn’t hear the situation because I was still sitting in the back of the car with the windows closed. But the Karen mom looked really angry and eventually brought out the scooter after some back and forth.

She practically had to wring it out of her kid’s hands. I got let out of the car and they asked me if I wanted to press charges for assault because the mother had shoved me.

She looked ghost white when I said I did want that. But the Karen started crying and begging me. She said that she honestly thought it was something the store was selling and it was her kid’s birthday.

I yelled that didn’t excuse her stealing from someone else’s cart, let alone from a legally disabled man. Her kid was also loudly crying and my ears were hurting again.

So I said I wouldn’t press charges on her if she didn’t come near me or my stuff again.

But I wanted something done about the manager at the store for letting this happen. And I was ready to ride my scooter all the way back there. But the officers convinced me that it’d be better if I just went home and calmed down.

I later learned on my next visit to the store a couple days later that manager was fired over what happened because he already had a few complaints against him and didn’t bother to check that the scooter wasn’t one of theirs.

And the store gave the Karen and her kid a replacement razor scooter that they had in stock because she’d already paid for one. But it didn’t end there. 

She was also banned for six months from the store for shoving me and stealing my property. I was also given a $50 gift card for some free groceries since I wasn’t able to buy anything the day that mess happened.

Now every time I go into that store a few of the employees know me by name. And one actually told a random kid to leave me alone when he asked about my scooter.

I certainly keep a better eye it now too.

I’ve also since added a name tag on the underside of the scooter with my full name on it just in case this happens again.

Scooterscootboy

57. Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

There were a bunch of flashing lights and loud sirens on the street behind mine last night.

I just found out why and I’m gobsmacked. The family that used to live in the house behind mine who ever so helpfully called the authorities on me after I gave them a heads up about their wi-fi has moved out. A new family has moved in—and they’re even worse than the previous neighbors.

Our houses are separated by a couple hundred feet and a brush line.

I found this out because they came to talk to me last week about me having a smoke before I go to bed on my porch, and how the smell is terrible and it’s bothering them and I just need to not do that.

Note: I smoke for a minute or two on my screened in porch before bed perhaps 3-4 times a week.

The likelihood that ANY of the smoke from that is going anywhere near their house is slim to none.

I told the new back neighbors I’ll turn a ceiling fan on to thin out the smell, but I’m not going to get eaten alive by bugs just before bed because they don’t want me to smoke on my own property.

The porch is screened in.

I guess this answer didn’t satisfy them, because last night one of them came up with a cunning plan to get back at me. They dug a hole in their lawn, built a fire with a bunch of green pine wood so it’d be extra smoky, started the fire, and THEN PUT A BOX FAN POINTED AT MY PORCH NEXT TO THE FIRE AND WENT INSIDE.

Three guesses what happened.

If you guessed they set their own house on fire you would be correct. One of their next-door neighbors called 9-1-1 because some cinders from the fire set my back neighbor’s house on fire. I have no idea how much the fire damaged the house, only that the people who lived there got detained and given an impressive set of fines for negligence and a bunch of other things.

Did I mention my county is under a fire weather warning and all of those fines are multiplied?

ulfr

58. Turning The Tables

My wife and I are “senior citizens”. In other words, we are OLD. My dear wife is a strong, independent, take no guff from anyone, type of woman. I adore her for it! She keeps me in line pushes me to be a better man, and is the reason behind my (modest) success in life.

She is sarcastic, is wicked smart, can swear like a sailor, and as she gets older, her filter is practically non-existent!

A few months ago, we decided to treat ourselves, we made reservations and went to a rather high-end restaurant.

They had a maître d’, sommeliers, highly trained wait staff, etc. My wife, even though she is in her 70s, has very little grey hair and can pass for 55. She was wearing a very pretty white, lacy blouse, very flattering black pants, and black flats (she looked GOOD)!

.

When we arrived, there was no line (surprisingly) and the maître d’ had apparently stepped away from the podium where he stands. We were waiting there and my wife was right next to the podium and I had sat down at one of the benches provided by the entrance, when another couple came in.

Without missing a beat, the man walked up to the podium and told my wife, “Rockefeller (not the name he used), we have reservations for two”.

My wife said that she was sure someone would be with them shortly.

The woman huffed a little and the man said, “Please seat us NOW”! My wife told them that she is waiting to be seated but the man said again, “Seat us NOW”! My wife knew just how to deal with them.

She said, “Right away, walk this way, she walked away with them behind her as she walked around the partition separating the entrance to the dining area, circled around to the other end and led them back to the entrance and, pointing to the bench, said, “SIT DOWN”!

The man looked like he was going to lose it, and my wife repeated, “I don’t work here you moron, you wanted me to seat you, so sit right down”! As the couple were sputtering, and before it could escalate further, the maître d’ arrived, we gave our name and he lead us away. There was no yelling and no threats of calling the authorities.

We had a wonderful meal (over-priced but, oh well) and the other couple was several tables away from us. We didn’t interact again with them, but they did shoot us dirty looks now and then.

MrTooOldToCare

Entitled peopleShutterstock

59. One-Sided Sibling Rivalry

When I was a teenager I was originally saving to buy a scooter to have fun riding around town on. But on my 15th birthday my dad gave me an engine kit for my bicycle and convinced me to get a Learner’s Permit and keep saving to buy a car instead.

Even after moving in with my dad, I continued doing odd jobs and earning money any way I could.

My dad asked his brother (my uncle) to teach me to drive because he worked as a driving instructor for a while in the 90s.

I slowly got pretty good at it. Right after my 16th birthday rolled around we went to the DMV to schedule a driving test. I passed on my first try thanks to all the practice I got beforehand.

Not long after getting my license, my dad decided it was time I worked part-time for him at his business after school.

I was happy because it would make me double the money I was already saving from odd jobs.

Before I knew it I’d doubled my savings. While I had chosen to live with my father and my sister didn’t, dad still had a room prepared for my sister when she came to visit.

For the first few months or so Sis didn’t bother to come visit. But eventually, dad convinced her to come over one day a week on Saturday.

Dad always picked her up so I wouldn’t have to see my mom.

Thankfully, she didn’t really wanna see me either. My sister by this point stopped asking me for money or trying to break into my room since I was living in my dad’s house and not mom’s.

But she loved to game on the game systems we had at dad’s house. Sis would pretty much spend all Saturday night playing games in the den and drinking Coke.

That’s probably the main reason why she even wanted to come visit since she didn’t have an XBOX 360 or flatscreen TV at mom’s house.

Eventually, after just over 6 months of working at my dad’s business, he approached me with an offer to find a car I liked. He said if I found a good reliable used one that was the right price, he’d help me buy it and would put it on his insurance.

I was ecstatic—but I didn’t know it would turn into a total nightmare.

I started looking at local ads and found a silver 98 Toyota Camry with under 50,000 miles on it for sale. It was in great shape, save for the fact that the rear bumper had been dented and a few windows were broken along with a badly cracked windshield because it was vandalized by some thug.

The seller offered it to me at $3,500 with the damage.

But my dad talked him down to $3,000 because of the money it’d cost to get it fixed. I bought the car and it went right to a local auto body mechanic my dad was friends with.

When we went to pick up the car it looked almost brand new because he’d replaced the broken windows, pulled any dents, and touched up and shined the paint with a buffer. I was overjoyed and thanked him and my father profusely.

I bought the car. But my dad paid for all the repairs. He never told me how much though. But that car was my main ride for the next ten years if you can believe it.

And I eventually sold it to a cousin on my dad’s side for his first car. But that’s not what you’re here to read. When my sister first saw the car in Dad’s driveway, she asked whose it was.

Sis: “Hey? Who’s car is this? Is someone else visiting? Me: “Nope. That’s my car”. Sis: “No way”!

Me: “Yes way! I just bought it and dad helped me get it fixed. It runs like new”. Then my sister just got really quiet and went back in the house to play more video games.

She didn’t really speak to me for the rest of the time she was visiting that week. I started driving the car to and from high school, and I got a fair amount of attention for it.

My sister however had complained to our mother after going back home about my new car. Somehow she couldn’t process the fact that I’d gotten a car and she didn’t, even though she is three years younger than me and was only 13 at the time.

She started making a stink to our mom about how she wanted a car too. And mom called me on my cell phone to yell at me for starting this problem.

I told her there was no problem.

I bought a car with money I earned. And now I’m driving it. And if Sis wants a car too, then she can either work hard and save up like I did, or hope she gets one as a gift.

Mom just got mad at me and said it really wasn’t fair. I pointed out there really wasn’t a fairness issue at all as Sis wasn’t even old enough to get a learner’s permit yet, let alone a car.

Mom just said I wasn’t being supportive of my sister’s feelings. And that when she is old enough to drive I should at least lend her the car when she needs it or give her driving lessons.

I bluntly said that wasn’t happening as I bought it with my own money, and it’d be put in my name when I turned 18. Plus she couldn’t dictate what I do with the car because I didn’t live with her anymore.

Mom just angrily huffed, called me a jerk and hung up on me. I thought that was the end of it, but it wasn’t. My sister started visiting less after that. She got mad at me one day just for washing my car outside.

In a fit of anger, she picked up some dirt off the ground and chucked it at the side of my car. But I just sprayed the spot with the hose and it looked like it was never there.

So my sister just stomped back in the house and didn’t talk to me again. After that, she only came over for one more week again. When she came to visit she always had a big backpack with her because she’d bring clothes and other stuff in it.

She didn’t keep many things at dad’s house. But the next morning when she left she was wearing the same clothes. Which was unusual because she never did that back then.

She said she’d just die if she wore the same outfit two days in a row.

I later found out the reason for this. When I next went into the den, the PS2, GameCube, and original XBOX were destroyed. And the flatscreen TV had part of its screen smashed. The XBOX 360 was also missing.

I then realized she’d hidden it in her backpack and taken it.

The other game systems she smashed and left what remained of them sitting on the TV stand. I checked the various games for the systems and Sis had removed a bunch of the discs from their cases and stolen them as well.

And she took all of the memory cards too. When I told dad he was pretty mad. He called my mom and she actually said that since I got the car, letting Sis keep the XBOX 360 and the games was the least he could do.

Then she smugly said that Sis didn’t want to come visit anymore. Dad angrily told her she better stop sounding so happy about it or he was gonna make her pay for all the damages.

Mom just snorted and finally allowed him to talk to my sister. My dad was pretty heartbroken Sis had done all that. He’d been trying so hard to get her to appreciate him more.

But Sis admitted over the phone that she hated him for divorcing mom. And her taking the XBOX 360 and destroying the TV and other game systems was, as our mother called it, “compensation for her pain”.

Dad could have called his lawyer to sue for more custody rights. But he believed that if she didn’t want to be there, he wouldn’t force her.

From then on, over the next decade, I barely saw either my sister or mother.

Dad didn’t bother to try and get the XBOX 360 back. He said that it and the other stuff Sis broke were just things that could be replaced, and bought new ones. But I could tell he was really hurt by what mom and Sis had done.

He actually left my sister’s room pretty much untouched for the next few years. But she never came back to use it.

From the way my sister is now though, you’d never guess she was the same person.

She’s extremely ashamed of her actions back then and wishes she could take it all back and apologize to dad. But can’t since he passed some time ago. We visited his grave recently and she cried over it.

It’s really sad.

Kragle-Tom

60. Nursing A Grudge

This goes back 28 years, when I became a mother for the first time. I delivered a healthy baby boy and promptly 24 hours later, the hospital released us, and off I went in complete happiness with my new bundle of joy.

My mother came home with my husband and me to help us for the first week. Within a few days, something horrible began to happen. 

It became apparent my son’s skin was turning a horrid shade of yellow. My mom assured me it was most likely jaundice and that he would probably need extra sunlight.

We took him to the pediatrician, who felt that it was dire enough that he would be better off in the hospital under some blue lights. His instructions were extremely specific.

He said, “Mom, I want you to go right to the hospital.

You will be sleeping at the hospital for the next several nights. I am calling ahead so they have everything set up for you. Since you are breastfeeding, I want you to feed him as much as he will take, every two hours, and pump afterward, so there is a supply on hand.

The rest of the time, sleep as much as possible. Get him settled in, feed him, then go pack a bag and come back”.

He then hugged me because he had been my doctor since I was 13 and he just delivered my first baby, and was my baby’s doctor too, and our entire family adored this man and trusted him completely.

The hospital was literally across the street. I was ready to cry. I felt like maybe I had done something wrong, or my baby would not be in this predicament.

I was breastfeeding but it was a struggle, and so I just felt like a failure.

I also do not do well with confrontation. Combine that with the hormones raging through my body, and well, I was a mess. I arrive at the hospital and they usher us upstairs. I had just been discharged a few days before, and a few nurses recognized me.

I approached the counter, where I encountered Nurse Ratchet for the first time.

She started by looking up from her paperwork as if I am bothering her. “May I help you”? Me: “Yes, Doctor asked me to come check in, he said he called ahead and”. I explained the whole story, including the explicit instructions for breastfeeding.

She looked at me over her glasses and sighed a little. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and what your baby needs, are the blue lights, and FORMULA. You don’t have good enough breast milk or he wouldn’t be in this situation.

So let’s get him checked in, and then you can go home. We will call you when he is ready to be picked up”.

What followed was total silence. The urge to cry was rising up inside of me like a surging volcano about to erupt, and my eyes filled with tears.

I was not one to buck an authority figure back then. Somehow I found my voice, and I said, “MY DOCTOR SAID I am to stay HERE, and breastfeed my son every two hours. He is NOT to have formula.

We want to breastfeed him and only breastfeed him”.

My mom and my husband were looking at me and they could not believe I had spoken up. My mom told me later she was about to go off on that nurse but I spoke up.

Nurse Ratchet seemed quite offended that I dare speak to her in that manner. She replied, rather rudely, “Fine! You can feed him back here”! and I followed her to the nursery.

It was divided in two sections, and one section was closed, and full of extra newborn cribs, folding chairs, and equipment not in use.

It was cold and dark. She pulled out a folding chair, looked at me, and said, “You have exactly 20 minutes”! and she stormed out. Well, that did it. Now I was being TIMED, when I was barely learning how to feed my baby.

My baby was sick, and I had to feed him in a cold, dark room, on a folding chair, when I had been using a pillow and a comfortable chair. I was despondent and began to cry.

All I could do was hold my baby and cry and cry and cry. I didn’t even feed him. He was sleeping soundly, while I bawled my eyes out, telling him over and over, “Mommy is sooo sorry baby.

So, so sorry”!

I waited there until far after my time was up, because I thought Nurse Ratchet was coming back for me to check my baby and I into a room. A bit later, a nurse comes in and I startled the heck out of her. Nice nurse said, “Oh honey, what are you DOING in here”? So I explained the entire story, again, and I am sobbing at this point.

She came over and hugged me and said, “Honey, honey, I do not know what that nurse was thinking but this is not at all how we do things! Come with me and let’s get you all set up”.

I followed her, and for the first time, felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

The baby was beginning to get hungry, so I hung my head in shame and told her I had not been able to feed the baby in the 20 minutes I was allowed, was there please someplace I could sit and do that now?

Nice nurse was the most precious human being on the planet next to my newborn son right at that moment.

She took me to a room reserved for parents of babies who must stay in the hospital.

I had a private room. She brought me sheets and pillows for the fold-out couch. She brought me their professional breast pump machine and set me up with a professional pumping kit. I was able to feed my son, get him under the blue lights, and then head home for a quick pack of clothing, and be able to return in time for his next feeding.

In case I ran late, I left two bottles of pumped breast milk for him. We returned a little more than an hour later. I walked in, looked for my baby, and panicked. He was not under the blue lights.

I did a little more searching and found Nurse Ratchet, with my son in her arms, and she was feeding him a bottle of, you guessed it…FORMULA!

The mama bear in me reared her protective head and I just about lost it.

I knocked on the glass furiously until she looked up. That woman had the nerve to roll her eyes at me. She came out and asked what I needed. Me: “I explained to you that we are strictly breastfeeding our baby.

We do not want him to have formula. I will take him now for his feeding”.

Nurse: “What you don’t seem to understand is formula is better. He needs to rid his body of bilirubin and the formula will bind to it better than breastmilk.

If you breastfeed, he is just going to be here longer. Is that what you want? For your baby to be in the hospital longer, hmmm”? Me: “MY DOCTOR SAID I AM TO BREASTFEED ONLY.

I WILL TAKE MY BABY NOW”.

Nurse: “Finnneeeeee! Suit yourself”! She plopped him into my arms, and off I went to my private room, to breastfeed my son, and then pump. That was my life for three nights and four days.

The nurses would wake me at night, every two hours, and I would feed, then pump, then sleep. Day 4, he was a bright pink healthy baby and we got to take him home. My husband called our doctor and told him what that Nurse Ratchet had done.

On the second day, he came to check on us, and later I had the pleasure of witnessing my doctor give Nurse Ratchet a good mouthful of what he thought of her. He was furious and she really got chewed out good.

She was told to no longer have anything to do with our family. Two years and 3 days after my son was born, I gave birth to my daughter in that same hospital.

Upon arrival in Labor and Delivery, Nurse Ratchet was once again on duty.

The nurse who checked us in was wonderful. I pointed to Nurse Ratchet and I said, “You see that woman over there? (I didn’t even call her a nurse) We do not want THAT WOMAN ANYWHERE NEAR our new baby that is on the way. She was a nightmare two years ago and I will not be stressed out or bullied by her again.

We also do NOT want our new baby fed formula for any reason, unless it is unavoidable. We plan to breastfeed. ”

I love that I had finally found my voice! The nurse checking us in smiled at me, a great big smile, and said, “I absolutely understand and you will not have to worry about her at all” We never laid eyes on her again.

Unfortunately, I have never forgotten her, or the damper she put on what was otherwise the most wonderful, yet scary time of my life.

She could have been nice. She could have been kind. She could have been understanding.

She also could have followed doctor’s orders but apparently, her vast experience as a nurse made her more knowledgeable, and more entitled, about what was best for my baby.

DivineMs_M

61. Not All Leeches Live In The Water

My wife’s Aunt Louise is a great lady.

She and her husband lived in the SF Bay area, and bought their home in the late 1970s. After her husband passed a few years ago, she sold her home for over $1 million and moved back to live closer to her family where she grew up (farming areas in southern CA).

She’s in her late 60s. Aunt Louise had three children, who are now all in their 40s.

The two oldest are nice, normal people. Her youngest, Kay, is a real piece of work. She meets all the criteria for a psychological diagnosis of narcissism.

This is just one of literally dozens of stories I could tell. Kay’s husband Pedro was a good provider. About 10 years ago, things began going well, and he began making pretty good money.

To Kay, however, higher-income meant more spending, and soon she was buying a new car every two years.

They went on cruises. She had all the latest and greatest gadgets. As the old MTV tag line used to go, “Too much is never enough”. To augment her lifestyle, she would routinely run to her mom (Aunt Louise) with a sob story or another.

We don’t know the true figure, but I’ve heard rumors that Aunt Louise has given her more than $20,000 over the past few years. Kay and Pedro managed to keep their heads above water, but when COVID hit and the state of California ordered economic shutdown, money became tight.

Then in October, the company went out of business. He found another job, but was essentially starting his career over.

Naturally, they’d begun fighting about money, and two weeks ago it comes to ahead. After hearing the blasphemous word “no” one time too many, Kay announces she’s getting a divorce.

Being in California, she naturally expected the courts were going to give her one last payday from this poor guy—her car, their house, his 401K, and generous alimony.

However, in her greed, she forgot that Pedro had kept draining his 401K to pay off credit cards.

And all those papers about the house she was signing every couple of years was to refinance their house to pay off more credit cards, so there’s almost no equity. And with having to start his career over, alimony wasn’t going to be that great.

So Kay does what she always does, goes running to her mother. Aunt Louise is naturally sympathetic and urges Kay to try and reconcile, but failing that, she might be able to help her out.

Literally two hours later, Kay texts Aunt Louise with a photo of a pricey condo, and asks for $100K to cover her down payment and costs to furnish it.

Aunt Louise naturally pushes back, telling Kay that “helping out” didn’t mean $100K.

She had meant letting Kay live with her while she got back on her feet, writing a check for security deposit and first months’ rent, and maybe helping with some car payments. At this point, Kay totally flips out. Here are the things my wife said were direct quotes.

“I can’t believe my own mother would be so selfish”! “What difference does $100K make, you’re not going to spend it all anyway” (meaning before Aunt Louise dies)! “Just sell some stocks or something” Aunt Louise fortunately does have someone who manages her money, but she stays on a strict allowance.

After Aunt Louise held out, Kay has begun polluting Facebook with passive-aggressive messages about finding out peoples’ true colors.

My wife is actually HOPING she calls to ask for help, specifically so she can let her have it with both barrels.

RandoBoomer

62. Even A Blind Person Could See That This Lady Sucks

It’s actually sad how often this sort of thing happens. I mean, being a blind girl, instances of ignorant people are daily. But entitled parents represent a certain level of infamy for me.

Since my parents are more at-risk from COVID, I’ve been going shopping alone more and more often during the pandemic. Yesterday was one of these cases.

Grocery shopping is a more involved process for a blind person, I have to ask a staff member to assist me.

I also have my guide dog, Gumbo, inside with me. The dog can increase the instances of bad experiences. Now, during my shopping, I always get a wide array of reactions to my dog. But this one was the worst I’ve ever seen.

I heard loud footsteps, followed by the loud screech of “That doggy is so cute! Can I pet him”!? It was obviously a small child by the voice, so I prepared myself before responding that no, my dog cannot be touched due to him being a guide dog.

Surprisingly, the child didn’t act entitled. But seemed surprised and excited about a dog having a job. She (I believe it was a she) asked me a few questions, and then left.

I thought nothing of it and continued with my shopping.

After I finished, I decided to stop by the food court on the way out for some lunch. So I went and made my way across the supermarket. I ordered my food, sat down, and waited.

But by some cosmic gracing of bad luck that is the exact moment that this child and their parent decided to walk close by.

I heard the child tell the mother about what I told her.

About how my dog is working as a guide dog, that I’m blind, and use him to get around, etc. The mother isn’t really saying anything but I can sort of tell by her tone and the few words she does say that she is seeing some issue with what her daughter was told. I decided to listen in and after the daughter finished her babbling, the mother came up to me.

Now as I said, people coming up to me is super common. I thought nothing much of it. However, the first words out of her mouth were: “Why did you tell my daughter you’re blind”? Her tone was very harsh, very accusatory.

I immediately knew what was coming but, as usual, I put on a smile. Me: “Because I am blind. Your daughter asked me about my dog, so I explained what guide dogs are and why we use them”

Her: “You’re not blind” Me: “Excuse me”? The straight words caught me off guard.

Her: “You’re not blind. My cousin is blind, so I know what a blind person is like. You shouldn’t lie about that. I think you should let my daughter pet the dog, she likes dogs.

It’s pretty awful to refuse a child something like that” My hackles rose slightly.

Me: “Well, ma’am. Not all blind people are the same. Just because you know a single blind person, doesn’t mean you know how all blind people are. And as I already explained, your daughter can’t pet my dog due to him being a seeing-eye dog”. Her: “Why are you lying?

Your eyes are completely fine. You’re using a phone! Don’t say you’re blind if you’re gonna show you’re not at the same time! Why would you lie about this”?

Me: “Excuse me, but I am not lying.

My eyes looking ‘fine’ have nothing to do with anything. Not every blind person’s eyes look the same. Look, you’re stressing me out. I’d rather you just left me alone”. Her: “My daughter wants to pet your dog!

She’s been well behaved all through today and it’s more than reasonable to let her pet the dog’! Me: “I said no. I don’t know why you can’t just accept my answer”.

Her: “You said no using that BS excuse!

You’re honestly starting to make me angry, I don’t know who you think you are, but I happen to work for [I can’t actually remember where she said], and if you don’t stop it, I’ll get security to throw you and your fake guide dog out of here”! Now I’m sure you get the picture. This went on for a good 5 minutes of her getting progressively more and more angry at the fact I wouldn’t let her daughter pet my dog.

The daughter was actually silent through the whole thing.

I don’t really think she even cared that much. The mother, however, was a raging psycho. Eventually, she screamed out: “That’s it! I’m going to get security! If you’re smart you’ll be gone by the time I get back or you’ll regret it”! I snorted at her small fit and heard her huff and storm off.

By that time my food had arrived so I started eating. I didn’t really believe she’d go to get security, but with entitled parents, you cannot be sure. About, I dunno, five minutes or so went by of me eating.

I was enjoying my fries, browsing the internet in bliss. But of course, she returned. I heard her stupid stomping from like 15 feet away.

She was raging on to a security guard. Her: “Look! That’s her! You see?

She’s sitting there with a dog! She says it’s a guide dog but she’s not blind! You have to kick her out, dogs aren’t allowed”! I sighed and removed an earbud to prepare for the incoming ordeal.

A deep male voice sounded from a few feet in front of me. He sounded rather defeated.

He said: “Uh, Miss, is this a service dog”? Me: “Yes, it is. He is a seeing-eye dog.

I am allowed to take him in here. I have a copy of the appropriate law if you need it”? Guard: “No that’s fine. I know service dogs are allowed. This woman is saying you aren’t disabled though, is that true”? Me: “No. She’s just angry that I didn’t let her daughter touch my dog. I honestly don’t know why she cares”

Her: “Because you’re a liar! I told you, I have a blind cousin!

Don’t try to tell me I don’t understand blind people because I do”! Me: (I directed my attention to the security guard) “I’ve tried to explain to her that one blind person doesn’t represent all blind people, but she doesn’t seem to get it. Could you please ask her to leave me alone?

I just wanna eat in peace”

Guard: “So you are blind”? Me: “Yes, I am” Guard: “Can you prove it in any way”? Me: “Uh, no, how could I do that? And why”? Guard: “Well, it’s just that she is saying one thing, you’re saying another thing. I don’t exactly know who to believe. But yeah I see how proving you’re blind doesn’t really work”. (He spoke to the woman) “Why is it exactly that you think she’s lying”?

Her: “Are you serious?

Are you thick? Look at her eyes! They’re not white or cloudy like blind people’s are. She’s literally looking at a freaking phone”! SG1: (He spoke to me) “Uh, what’s your response”? Me: (I sighed) “Maybe her cousin has those eye symptoms, but not every blind person does. Those symptoms are caused by diseases like cataracts, which I don’t have. As for the phone, devices have been accessible to the blind for years.

I find it surprising she has a cousin who is blind and doesn’t know that”.

Her: “No I saw you look at the phone! You were LOOKING at it”! Me: “I have basic light perception.

I can detect light. I direct my eyes to it out of habit because that’s where my hands are occupied. Look it’s not my job to educate you on what you don’t know”. (I spoke to the guard) “Please, please just ask her to leave me alone. I don’t care if she doesn’t believe me, you don’t need to stand here and mediate a back and forth as if we’re going to agree. I’d just like her to stop talking to me and leave me in peace. I’m feeling extremely harassed”.

Guard: “Yeah I get that.

It’s just that, I can’t know for sure if you’re blind, so she might have a valid point”. Me: “What? That applies to every blind person. How can anyone prove that? If she has no reasons for me lying then shouldn’t you just give me the benefit of the doubt”? Guard: “I don’t know, she said her cousin is blind, she probably knows something about it” Me: (I paused for a second) “Wow. I’m not even going to bother. Look, if you’re not going to get her away from me then I’m just going to leave. Thanks for failing to protect a disabled patron”.

I stood up to leave, my dog getting up to guide me.

I took a few steps and suddenly felt someone grab hold of my harness handle tightly and pull me to a stop. Her: “Wait! I said I wanted you to let my daughter pet the dog.

THEN you can leave”. Me: “NO! GET OFF MY HARNESS! GET OFF”! Now understand, grabbing my harness is akin to someone taking away your eyes. She was impeding my means of navigating. So I panicked.

This has only happened to me once before and I panicked then too. I attempted to pull my harness handle back, all the while screaming. “GET OFF! LET GO! HELP”! And her screaming in my ear about…actually I wasn’t exactly listening as I was too busy screaming. But I assume it had something to do with her daughter.

The security guard was fumbling around fairly uselessly. Eventually, another security guard hurried over.

I heard him bark out. Guard 2: “What’s going on”?! Me: “SHE’S TAKING MY GUIDE DOG! HELP ME! SHE WON’T LET GO”! Her: “No! She’s supposed to let my daughter pet her dog! He said so”! (I assume she pointed to the guard) The guard didn’t respond, but the way the conversation went, it seemed like he non-verbally indicated that he hadn’t said that.

Guard 2: “Miss, let go of the lady’s dog, right now. Or I’ll need you to leave”. Her: “No! She’s not blind! The dog isn’t real! Don’t just jump in and assume you know what’s going on”! Me: (I had calmed slightly, so I could speak in a more coherent manner) “Please just get her off of me. I want to leave.

I don’t feel safe. Let me leave”! Guard 2: “Hey you’re alright miss, everything’s gonna be fine”

I then felt the woman’s hand being forcibly removed from the handle. As soon as I was free, I immediately commanded Gumbo to lead me to the exit.

We walked quickly. I heard the woman screeching loudly behind me. The man shouting: “Calm down! Just stop screaming”! I was still somewhat panicked, but I was able to calm myself down as I hurried toward the exit.

It was so chaotic I very nearly forgot my shopping where I left it at customer services, because I didn’t want to have it around me in the food court where it could be snatched. I left, called a taxi, and came home.

It has really stuck with me for the last couple days. But the worst part is that these types of interactions are an almost daily occurrence.

Leckszluthor

Entitled peopleShutterstock

63. Time Isn’t On Your Side

I work as a receptionist at a medical clinic and it is not my job of choice. Even though I don’t love my job, I take it seriously, as other people’s health is not a joke, in addition to having the job policy of doing the best job possible at the moment—and then having to correct later what is much more work. I have seen many patients who are rude or disrespectful, including an elderly lady trying to beat my co-worker using a cane.

That became the unit’s internal joke for the month.

But there’s one patient who topped them all. They arrive with three pages of exams to take (big but not the biggest I’ve ever seen).

As always, I added each exam to the system. Keep in mind that it is not the only step in the work, it is still necessary in some medical plans to make additional requests and add each individual code back to the health insurance system.

As the patient was on the phone, the first part was very quiet, but when she finished the call she started complaining and insisted on being in a very loud tone for the whole place to hear, talking about how long I was taking and how much time she needed too much to be there.

As professionally as possible, I explained what I was doing.

I was attaching the order to a fixed agreement and waiting for the return from the insurance company. The client asked to speak to my supervisor, who was already coming to see what had happened.

My supervisor knows this type of client very well, and he knows that it is not possible to do all the procedures magically quickly.

He used all the professional words he explained to the client.

The client did not accept what my supervisor said and demanded that my supervisor replace me for opening the record. My supervisor, being responsible for the area, had to resolve the situation Now comes the part that the client does not know. All the forms have to be opened under the login of the employee who was making the request.

That meant I was no longer responsible for her. With a big smile I erased everything I spent almost two hours doing, and bonus—I had to cancel the request for medical insurance. Good luck having to wait another two hours for a completed medical record to be done again—in addition to the time it takes for the exams to get approved by the health insurance.

TheMatatHeus

Entitled peopleShutterstock

64. The Man In Me

This happened last weekend.

On weekends I work part-time delivering food with Doordash, in my area I make good side money. Last Saturday my wife texted me to stop by the store after work and pick her up some tampons and she sends me a photo of the box that she needs.

I’m a guy, never used one so I would be clueless without that info.

So here I am standing in the aisle looking at all the female products still confused and lost even with the photo because well I don’t see it on the shelf.

Then I hear a lady pipe up. What she said was absolutely vile. She told me: “See no matter how you dress, you’re still born a woman”. I look up to see who is talking to who and I see her, Just standing there glaring at me.

She’s a Karen, I’m guessing in her late 40s, not much older than me. I respond with, “I’m sorry, were you talking to me”? as I look around and notice her and I are the only two in the aisle.

She just rolls her eyes and starts a rant about transgender people and so on, she’s being very insulting to anyone who is transgender. So, after she finishes, I just start laughing. 

Her face turns as red as my Doordash mask that I’m wearing in the store. She starts to scream then I cut her off.

I’m 6’1, 280 pounds “Look lady, if I was born a woman would I look as clueless and lost as I do right now? Have you not ever seen a man by tampons for a woman?

See this is called being a good husband. My wife wants tampons and I’ll be darned if I come home empty-handed”.

I hold up my phone and point at the pic, “Now do you see this brand on the shelf”?

She backed away eyes big, face drained, and walked pretty quickly down the aisle tearing up. I finally found the brand, checked out, and made my wife happy.

Dustin53545

65. Keeping It OUT Of The Family

My parents and sister are trying to stop me from taking an incredible job overseas because of my daughter.

There’s a really mind-blowing reason why. See, biologically she is my sister’s—but I adopted her. Earlier, I got a call from the school that a woman not on the list had come around and tried to pick up my daughter claiming she was the mother.

She had claimed there was a family emergency and she needed to take my daughter home early, now only myself and my best friend are marked down as able to pick up my daughter. When they wanted to see her ID she got cagey and claimed she forgot it and when they told her she couldn’t pick her up without an ID she shouted at them before storming off.

I have spent all day on the phone with my lawyers and my boss, and my schedule is being moved ahead. I’d wanted to give my daughter a final Christmas in our current home but it’s clear that’s not a safe idea anymore. Our move has been brought forward and my company is putting us up in a hotel until they help us find a home.

lollipoptrash04

66. A Crown Vic And A Clown Sib

I have an older brother Dave that has always been a jerk to me. There’s only a one-year gap between us. But he liked to beat me up when we were kids, and he always acted like anything that was mine was also his.

He was also somewhat the golden child. Which made me miserable. So no surprise I moved out at 18. My uncle was in law enforcement, now retired, and he took me in after I left home.

He even hooked me up with a decommissioned Crown Vic. I absolutely love that car. I don’t know why—but Dave hated the fact I had that car. He drove three beater cars into the ground while my Crown Vic kept chugging along.

Well after his third beater finally got totaled when he drove it into a pole, he asked to borrow my car.

All of a sudden, a terrible feeling washed over me. I told him I wasn’t gonna do that.

He called me entitled and said he needed a car to get to work. I told him to take the bus because I know how he drives and my Crown Vic was off-limits. My parents called me after that and told me to just lend him my car.

I said I won’t no matter what they say.

I rely on the car and need it as well since it’s my personal transportation. Dave wasn’t the only one in the world with a job he needed to get to.

My uncle congratulated me for standing up to them and gave me a high-five. A few days later when I got off work the car wasn’t where I parked it. I called my brother’s cell, but he didn’t pick up.

Then I called my parents and asked them if he took my car. They denied it. So I said I was gonna call the authorities and report it stolen. What they said made my blood run cold.

They admitted he’d “borrowed” it because he needed it. I told them he better bring it back right now or I’ll have authorities looking for him. They called me a jerk and then phoned Dave to bring my car back.

He showed back up in the parking lot in my car 20 minutes later. I demanded to know how he took my car, and he held up a set of  Crown Vic keys he’d bought online. Some were made universal.

I told him if he ever took my car again, I’d have the authorities deal with him. Then he had the audacity to ask for a ride home.

I told him he made me wait in the December cold after stealing my car, so he could walk.

He called me a jerk before I drove away. After that my uncle installed a tracking device in the car. But my nightmare wasn’t over yet. When Christmas Day came I was celebrating with family like every year.

The roads were cold and icy. So I had to be very careful while driving.

By now you’re probably clued in. Yeah, Dave “borrowed” my car again during the Christmas party. Apparently, he decided he was gonna go pick up a friend and figured I wouldn’t notice.

But I did when I looked out the front window and saw my car was missing. I pulled up the tracking app and saw he was a few miles away. Then called his cell to yell at him.

Everyone at the party saw this and asked what was going on. I said Dave took my car without my permission again. And my uncle confirmed it wasn’t the first time. Dave told me over the phone to screw off and he’d be back soon.

I said he better not have been drinking. But he just hung up on me. Well, while I was watching the tracker app the dot stopped and didn’t move for a while.

Soon we got a panicked call from Dave asking for help.

He’d crashed the car because he couldn’t handle the icy roads and he wasn’t used to a rear-wheel drive vehicle. So we piled in my parents’ minivan and followed the tracker. We found Dave by the road and my Crown Vic nose deep in a snow-filled ditch.

My uncle was furious as it was his old department’s car.

I was furious at Dave for jacking my car again. My parents wanted me to let it go. But I said enough was enough and was gonna call the authorities.

Dave begged me not to because he really had been drinking before he set off and would get in trouble. I said he was gonna pay me back for my friggin’ car then or I’d sue him.

Well as luck would have it the authorities were already aware of the accident and were driving in to check on the scene. Someone else had called them I guess.

My parents tried to say that I was the one driving the car and they were just there to help me. I said that wasn’t true, and my uncle backed me up. In fact, one of the officers that was there recognized my uncle and they had a chat.

Then they went to Dave and asked to see his license.

Well, we were all in for a surprise. I then found out his license had been suspended after he’d crashed his previous car. Then they breath-tested him. He wound up with cuffs slapped on his wrists while my mother was crying and begging the officers not to take him away.

But the officer just said that she and my dad could get detained too, for lying to them. That shut my parents up.

And we got back in the minivan. The Christmas party ended early and my parents drove me and my uncle home since he rode with me. They didn’t say much to either of us the whole drive, and just sped away as soon as we were out of their van.

They nearly slipped off the road themselves doing that. My brother was let out the next day. And he looked so scared that he was practically crying. The officers there had roughed him up a bit while talking about prison and the bad stuff they’d seen go on there. Dave had actually wet himself during that and they let him take a shower.

That’s when my uncle started cracking up and revealed to us that his friends in the department never filed the D-U-I and just the charge for the suspended license. Which was about a six hundred dollar fine.

My uncle said he just wanted to teach Dave a lesson. And this would be the one and only time he’d ever get his help. Dave then apologized to me and said he’d pay to have my Crown Vic fixed and would never touch it again.

When it got pulled out of the ditch the front end damage was actually minor. It needs a new front bumper, a headlight, and a grill. The damage was just superficial thankfully. My parents have pretty much glossed over the whole incident and act like it didn’t happen.

Dave gave me the extra Crown Vic keys he’d bought online and said this has taught him a lesson he won’t soon forget.

Not-A-Cop-Throwaway

67. When Family Is The Real Dead Weight

My two brothers have always been naturally skinny and maintained an active lifestyle throughout most of their life.

I, on the other hand, was born on the pudgier side and never really had an interest in sports other than swimming but didn’t get (nor want at the time) to work on that hobby.

By the time I was in the army, I was quite heavy at 246 pounds.

While I was never teased about my weight, my family and especially my mother enjoyed poking fun at it: my eating habits, mom rolling her eyes whenever someone commented I’ve lost weight, and so on.

Since she was (and still is) quite the blob herself, I just ignored her or commented as such. But, being stationed in a far-away base where combat units were also serving, most of the guys in my base were quite fit.

I wasn’t assigned a combative role due to a medical condition. No, it didn’t have to do anything with weight, but a very minor birth defect that I was rid of by the time I was 12.

The army said they “didn’t want to take any chances to put me in harm’s way”. So, instead of putting me in a combat role, they decided to have me on the oh-so-safe field of heavy-duty machinery.

Anyway, again most of the men serving in my unit were very fit and very muscular and while I was never jealous of them nor teased for being fat, one day I just took a good look in the mirror and was like “Hmm.

I can do better”. And so I decided to start and change things; I’d watch very carefully what I ate, drank mostly water, joined the boys on their evening jogs, convince my sergeant friend to get me access to their gym and have him train me in Krav-Maga a few times a week if he was able to.

I kept on to what I was doing and was very strict at keeping at it until I reached my target weight. Soon enough I had to pay a visit to the quartermaster’s and get a smaller-sized uniform.

After a year and a half of regular exercise, weight lifting, and a healthy diet, I lost a lot of weight (a few pounds shy of the target) and built quite a lot of muscle mass.

In all honesty, it was my sergeant friend who convinced me to visit their gym and encouraged me to lose weight. Man, am I glad I listened. While I was very proud of the progress I’ve made, my family, who have teased me about my big fat behind for most of my life, weren’t as happy as I was. Instead, they said nothing.

The teasing has stopped but there wasn’t much beyond that.

Other than a semi-compliment like “Did you take this shirt from one of your brothers”? whenever I wore something that actually fit me or “Why are you still wearing this huge thing”? if I kept clothing from the time I was bigger.

I still got comments during meals if I took an extra scoop but whatever, I didn’t care, I didn’t lose weight to get compliments.

Moving on, by the time I turned 22, I was back into civilian life as well as working myself through university with a part-time job.

Also, during that time I have saved enough to afford a membership at a gym close to campus. While I was being the healthiest and most physically fit I’ve ever been my entire life, my older brother wasn’t faring as well.

He had stopped jogging and was getting chubbier every day. He’s still not obese by any chance but he’s not nearly as fit as he used to be (and he’s only in his late 30s).

It only got worse at family gatherings, especially weddings where a lot of distant relatives and those we don’t get to meet often would also be present. Also, I’m a massive introvert so fully packed events are not my thing.

I’d often avoid those and barely even met with my extended family during my service. So you can imagine some of my relatives shock seeing me over a hundred lbs. lighter, some didn’t even recognize me.

I guess my brother got some comments from people because he’d no longer look smug whenever he looked at me. About eight months into my membership there, my mom sat me down (I was still living at home) and the conversation went as follows:

Me: “What’s up? Is everything ok”? My mom: “Everything is fine honey but I just wanted to talk to you about something”. I already had a bad feeling. These conversations always seemed to be about me doing something wrong.

My mom: “Well, you know your father and I are very proud of how far you’ve come, you’re looking very handsome”. Me: “Thanks mom”.

My mom: “But, me and dad are little worried.

With all the expenses we have along with your tuition and not your gym membership, we’re getting a little tight. Can you cancel your membership please? We can no longer afford it”. Me: “Uh, mom you guys don’t pay for my gym membership.

I do”. BM: “And who gave you that money”?

Me: “It’s money I’ve saved from birthdays, allowance (from way back when) and work. Also, I’m on a scholarship so you do know you guys aren’t paying for school either right”? My mom: (getting frustrated) “Well, you can’t go to your gym anymore”. Me: “And why is that”? My mom: “Because we (she and dad) think your older brother should use it instead.

He really wants to go to that gym but he can’t afford it. It really depresses him, don’t you think it’s mean of you to keep going there while he cannot”?

Me: “Mom, be real, he makes twice the money I make so he can afford a gym membership on his own.

That said, the gym isn’t located anywhere near his apartment”. My mom: “That doesn’t matter. We decided that you can’t go anymore, it’s not fair towards your brother. You’re going to cancel your membership and that’s final”.

Me: “No”. My mom: “Well, I will be giving them a call to cancel it for you (impossible unless she can imitate my voice and had my credit card).

Stop being selfish and be more fair towards your brother. Why can’t you just do this one thing for your brother? It’s bad enough he stopped he quit jogging, you’re not helping with what you’re doing!

Come on! Be more considerate! Also, think about your father”.

Me: “Dad has a problem with me working out too”? My mom: “You know how can barely move with his bad back”! Me: “Mom, dad can move just fine.

Just yesterday I helped him clear out the garage”. He had his own gym membership which he had to quit only recently due to covid. My mom: “You’re not being fair”! Me: (holding onto my last nerve) “Mom, I’m not going to stop working out because some 30+ man baby hates seeing me getting healthier while he tries tucking in his gut. If my looser jeans affect my brother so much, he can get up and do something about it.

Funny, how you’ve never said anything to either of (my brothers) to tone it down while I was fat”.

My mom: “How dare you say that about your brother”? At that point, I just got up and went on my business while she sulked and gave me the cold shoulder for the rest of the day.

However, during meal times she’d try to get me to eat (a lot more) more or cook very fatty things, buy only sugar-packed drinks, bring up fast food places whenever we went eating out, and then get mad at me whenever I said that McDonald’s is not a restaurant.

Whatever she tried to do didn’t work, and I soon began buying my type of soft drinks myself or just drink more water if I drank anything that wasn’t either sugar-free or diet.

Now, even though my dad supported my older brother, he didn’t say much and I have no idea why she even brought him up. I lived with them for four more years until I’ve saved enough to move out in 2015.

After that, I cut all contact with the three of them.

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68. A Wild Karen Appears

This happened this morning between 9 and 10 am. I went to the supermarket to grab a few things for lunch and dinner.

It’s early and slow so the store only had the self-checkout and one register open. As got to the register I see a young woman, early twenties, with a sleeping baby in her arms and a basket with formula, diapers, over-the-counter baby items, for diaper rash, and several prescriptions that were paid for at the pharmacy.

The girl gets to the register before me and then I saw the rampaging Karen come out of the aisle right in front of me. I knew there’d be trouble from the oversized sunglasses, Karen Haircut, yoga pants three sizes smaller than they should have been, that I’ll bet had never seen the inside of a gym or yoga studio.

She has maybe a dozen items in her cart.

At the time, the clerk, the 20-something, and I are wearing the required masks, but of course; Karen can’t be bothered. The store has markings on the floor for social distancing, but of course, that doesn’t apply to the wild Karen.

The young mother is holding the sleeping baby and trying to fish her wallet out of her small purse, while also holding the diaper bag and usual baby accessories.

The cashier hadn’t even finished ringing the girl up when the wild Karen start in a loud voice complaining about “unprepared shoppers” not even having their money ready. Karen’s cart is almost touching the 20-something’s leg.

Naturally, Karen’s complaint at full volume had the unfortunate effect of waking the sleeping infant who registered his displeasure by letting anyone within hearing know.

The mother was attempting to calm the infant and still get her wallet out of her purse.

The fact that Karen had to wait and now had to listen to the infant she woke up, caused another nasty rant. I’m in line behind Karen at this point—and then she gets on my last nerve. She’s been breathing the cashier for not being fast enough and then God only knows what lack of brain cells caused her to do this, but snaps at the young mother that “she should make that brat be quiet”.

She then decided to attack the girl snapping that if she didn’t dress like a “tramp” she wouldn’t have gotten “knocked up”. Since it was obvious that her jeans were too tight as was her top.

For Christ’s sake, she had a baby a couple of months before. The young mother was beet-red, the cashier was in shock, the infant not liking the noise was letting it be known that he wasn’t happy.

Karen had gotten on my last nerve and being old, sick, and in a bad mood and with a worse temper, I let loose. I slipped up past Karen and tossed my card to the cashier, and told her the young lady’s bill is on me.

That got Karen to start again only for me to loudly say, “Shut up, I’m as tired of your mouth as the little man is”!

That stunned Karen only sputtered while the young mother thanked me and gave the infant her full attention.

Karen is fuming and starts heaving her items onto the belt, but apparently, her mouth recovered before her brain. As soon as the cashier finished ringing her up and asked for payment, Karen turned toward me and sneered, “Well aren’t you going to pay for mine as well”?

I was done with her and responded, “No, I don’t like people who wake up sleeping infants with their big mouths”. She huffed and stormed out, I was hoping for an “I demand to speak to the Manager”, but you can’t have everything.

I headed to my car and was pulling out of the parking lot when the saw the young mother sitting at the bus stop holding the infant.

Buses out where I live run every hour, so I decided to offer her a ride.

Turns out she lived only a couple of miles away, under five minutes by car but a couple of hours on foot carrying a baby and supplies. She took the risk that I was a creep since I snapped at Karen’s rant. I learned that she and her husband we new to the area, and that they had moved for his job.

I asked her about the little man and learned that as her husband got paid they bought more of the stuff the baby needed, but right now they were making do with what they had.

I wrote an address down and told her that if her husband was off Saturday, she should have him bring them to the address for a yard sale with tons of baby stuff my niece was getting rid of.

She told me that she’d do that and thanked me again for everything. I dropped them off and made it home, and gave my niece a call describing the girl and infant and telling her to give the couple anything they liked and I cover whatever they couldn’t afford.

I like babies and have no tolerance for Karens. How dare anyone be in front of her or not dress according to your standards? You’re nuts!

VladVlad666

69. So Angry My Head Is Swimming

When I was 30 I bought my very first house.

It’s a beautiful four bedroom, two bath with a fenced-in backyard and an inground pool. I love my home. I work crazy hours at a factory 12 hours a day 5 to 7 days a week. I saved up everything I could for just over seven years so I could have my forever home.

The entire neighborhood is extremely friendly, and everyone looks out for one another. After about a year, I got to know just about everyone within a couple blocks from my place.

It was around this time when my neighbor came over and chatted with me for a good hour or so when she had asked if it would be possible for her kids to come over and use the pool once in a while.

And to be honest, I was completely fine with this. I was just happy that she had asked and was so polite about it. I told them they’re free to use it when I’m at work because of my 12-hour days.

Though every two weeks, I switch from days to nights. I told her that it’s okay as long as they don’t use it on days that I have to do nights because I’ll be sleeping during the day. And as long as she asks and cleans up after they’re done then I have no problem with it.

This worked out very well for about a month, month-and-a-half.

Then, a couple of the other families had started asking if their kids could use it. I was a little hesitant letting too many in my backyard at once.

So we ended up all getting together to discuss. There were a total of nine families with 12 children. We didn’t have a public pool near us, so I had told them I really don’t mind if anyone uses the pool, but I had a few rules that had to be followed.

If they weren’t followed for any reason, I would put a stop to them using the pool. My rules are as follows. They could not come inside the house. All kids had to be supervised by an adult.

No one could come in alone. They had to inform me either the night before or earlier in the morning of when they wanted to use the pool so I knew who was coming and I knew who was going to be there to supervise.

They could not bring anyone else over. They had to clean up after themselves. Every family agreed to these rules, and they all thought that they were completely fair. For the first month things were going very smoothly.

After that, it started getting too cold, and I told everyone that I will be closing the pool at the end of the week. To my surprise, when the end of the week arrived, many of the families had come over and had actually helped me take care of the backyard.

We prepared the pool for winter, and we did a bit of cleaning in the backyard. Afterward, we ended up having a really nice barbecue. It is now 17 years later. I’ve continued to allow them to bring over their kids to use the pool. Every year, these families come over and help me open up the pool and put it away for the winter and we have a big barbecue.

It’s been wonderful. But, there have been a couple problems along the way.

One of the big ones that sticks out happened after six years of living here. I was getting ready to leave for vacation.

Wasn’t anything big or fancy. I was just going away for four days to spend time with my family. So I informed everyone that for the next four days the pool will be closed because I will be leaving.

So the day I’m supposed to leave, I’m at the airport, but my plane was delayed.

We all know that feeling. It was starting to get late, and after waiting there most of the day, I’m told the flight won’t be leaving until tomorrow. Naturally, I was rather irritated after sitting there all day waiting, so I went back to my house.

I was quite tired. I just wanted to go lay down and go to sleep to be ready for the next day. I got into my door and I’m getting ready to go up the stairs, when I heard this weird noise and splashing.

Mind you, this is after 11 at night. I go to my back door, open it up, and turn on the porch light only to find a couple in my pool doing it…and you will never believe what they did. They actually got angry with me because I was disturbing them!

I. flipped. I demanded to know what the heck they were doing and how did they get in through the locked gate?

This is a couple that I had never met. I had no idea who these people were.

The woman had the audacity to say, “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be gone for four days”! I was dumbfounded…I didn’t know who they were but they knew I wasn’t going to be here for four days?

I turned around and I walked into my house. I didn’t even bother arguing with them.

I picked up the phone and I called the authorities. I told him there was a couple I don’t know that broke into my backyard and are in my pool doing it, and that they somehow knew I was going to be gone for the next four days. Within 15 minutes, two cruisers showed up at my house.

They went out to the back to find that the couple were still at it.

I mean can you believe it?! Most people would have gotten embarrassed being caught in someone else’s pool, and would have taken off, but no!! not these two, they actually went back to doing it after getting angry with me ‘cause I came back early. The couple get angry and both start saying “Seriously?

you called 9-1-1 on us”? Like I had disturbed them and it was their inconvenience.

The officers took them aside and got them dressed. It turns out that they are friends with one of the families that I allowed to come over to use the pool.

And they had heard that I would be gone for the next four days. They figured since I was fine with letting other people use my pool, that I wouldn’t mind if they did. They had hopped over my locked fence—but that’s not the most disturbing part. 

They had the nerve to tell the officers that I should be detained for being a perv watching them. Needless to say, I pressed charges and the two of them spent the rest of the night in custody. I also went about making sure they could no longer come on my property.

That was one of two of the biggest problems I had. The second one happened this summer. 17 years later.

I had told everyone that the pool would be closed because my family was coming to spend the week with me.

Everyone was completely understanding. Both of my immediate neighbors knew that I was going to be leaving on Sunday to go pick up my family, and that was the day that the pool was officially closed.

I went to the airport and I picked up my family. I was so happy to see them.

We get all their luggage, and we’re driving home. As I’m pulling into my street I notice cop cars and I’m thinking oh no, what happened? I hope everyone’s all right.

As I’m pulling up to my house I see all three cars are at my house. Now I’m starting to panic, thinking oh my God, what’s happened? I pull in and I hear screaming from a couple different people and an officer comes up to me.

I asked them: “What’s going on?? This is my home, what happened”? The officer asked me for my name and said well we got a call from your neighbor saying someone had broken in.

He tells us that the ambulance is on their way. My parents, my siblings, and their two kids are all worried, and asking a bunch of questions, when we see this woman come out of my backyard in a bikini with blood dripping down her arm.

She has four kids and one of them has blood on their foot. She looks at me and says “You!!! this is your house, this is all your fault”. I’m completely dumbstruck. So many questions went through my mind.

Who is this woman?? Who are these children? What were they doing in my backyard? How did they get hurt?? Two officers take her to the side with her kids and one cop comes to speak with me.

He told me this woman had jumped over the fence with her kids, so that they could go swimming in my pool.

Apparently, she had heard that anyone could use my pool at any given time. Turns out she had just moved into the neighborhood a couple months ago and she is about two blocks away from me.

After swimming for about 15-20 minutes, her youngest needed to use the bathroom.

So she tried to get into my back door but it was locked. Apparently, her kid needed to go and couldn’t wait till they got home, so she decided to break the window on my door to unlock it, cutting her arm in the process.

When she got in, she went looking for a cloth for her bloody arm. Her son then started running through my house and bumped into a glass vase, knocking it over and shattering it.

He stepped on the broken glass and that’s how he cut his foot.

My neighbors had heard the commotion and went into the backyard to see this woman breaking into my house, so they called the authorities. This woman was screaming at the top of her lungs saying she’s going to sue me because she hurt herself in my house, and why would I keep my door locked when I’m fine with people using the pool?

She screams how dare I have glass that would hurt any kid in my house? I went inside and I saw the damage. Sure enough, there was glass shattered all over my living room floor.

There was blood and water all over my house since they had run all over trying to find the bathroom. There was blood all over my kitchen and on all of my counters from her frantically opening up every drawer to try and find a cloth to take care of her arm and her son’s foot.

Two officers had come in and I was just sitting there. I didn’t know what to do. I could not believe that this had happened. They asked a bunch of questions and after talking with them they realized that I did not know this woman.

She didn’t have permission to come into my locked backyard or to break into my locked house. Of course, I pressed charges, and I had demanded that she pay for all the damages.

It took a while and we had to go to small claims court.

She fought it with everything she could. She would run around telling anyone and everyone how horrible I was and how dangerous it was at my house. However, no one in the neighborhood would listen to her.

Everyone knows my five rules, and that as long as those are followed, there are no problems.

In the end, it took about two months and she had to pay for all the damages she had caused.

She wound up moving within three months because no one wanted to talk to her after this. The group of people who I allowed to come over, which is pretty much everyone within a couple of blocks of me, were all worried that I would close the pool from now on because of this incident.

I told them I’m not going to punish them because of what one woman had done. I did, however, tell everyone that I was going to put up cameras for my own safety so that I don’t have to worry when I leave the house, and everybody was fine with this.

The cameras go up in three days and I will not be leaving my home until they’re installed.

Needless to say, the first two days were ruined for my family gathering, but the rest of the visit was wonderful.

My family helped clean the mess this inconsiderate woman had left.

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70. The Lights Are On, But No One’s Home

I bought my first flat when I was in my twenties. I rented out a room to a guy from Poland. I was seeing someone for a while, let’s call her Gia.

Gia lived with two other girls one of whom I’ll call Karen. Gia and I broke up and that whole friend group ditched me. My career went pretty well, and I bought a house in the suburbs.

I decided to let my roommate stay in the flat on the same rent, with the proviso that he not sublet.

I get the mortgage covered and a tenant who is better at maintaining the place than I am, he gets a two-bed flat for half price.

A few years on, my old roommate and his girlfriend are moving home to Poland. His girlfriend has already gone back, but when I’m over sorting some stuff with him, I see a huge pile of moving boxes etc.

, in the spare room

I ask: “Oh, is that your girlfriend’s stuff? Are you going to be able to fit all that in the car”? “Uh, no, that’s Karen’s stuff. She asked if she could leave it here while we were still here”. As it turns out, Karen was still friends with his girlfriend.

She found out they were leaving, and that their rent was a pretty good deal.

She told the girlfriend that she had squared it all with me, and that she was going to take it all over.

What followed was panic and confusion. I have not spoken to this person in years. She thinks that she is going to move into my flat, and doesn’t even ask? How the heck does she even intend to pay rent, given she has made zero attempts to contact me. And why would I not go for market rate?

?

I’m honestly baffled, and somewhat morbidly fascinated to find out how she thinks this is going to work. I don’t really want to get into some kind of ridiculous squatters’ rights squabble with them, so I contacted my solicitor (think a non-trial lawyer).

She recommends I get the locks changed, install a security camera, and to send the inevitable roof hitting her way when Karen turns up and tries to get in.

I actually think she’s quite excited by the drama.

I explain all this to the roommate. He agrees to move out two weeks early, and even helps me fit the doorbell camera. He really was the best. Today at lunchtime, Karen turned up and tried to get in the flat, and she was not alone.

My ex Gia was with her, and they had a key.

I feel stupid for not remembering that Gia probably had one from when we were together. I didn’t think she’d keep it after she ditched me, but probably should have changed locks back then.

Oops. Sorry tenants, my ex had a key to your flat the whole time. Camera didn’t get the preamble but they came up to the door and tried a key.

“It’s not working”. Some fumbling.

“He’s changed the lock”. Some more descriptive language, presumably about me and my parentage that I can’t wait to have a solicitor read back to them. They continue to take turns trying the key.

I connect at this point but don’t say anything. They try the doorbell but it doesn’t make any noise because I’m connected.

I think it’s lit up but I guess they don’t realize that means I’m watching.

I thought Ring cameras had a siren to give them a fright, but I couldn’t find it. They bang on the door and window a bit before walking off. I stayed listening through the camera but didn’t hear anything.

Still eerily quiet on phone. Video sent to solicitor anyway. Then, I get two calls from unknown numbers.

After a whole bunch of phone calls from random numbers, I finally got one from Gia’s father. He was always a gentleman who I got on with, so I sent him a polite message saying if this was about the flat, please direct this to my solicitor and gave him the details.

He said OK. I did some snooping on social media (I deleted my Facebook years ago). It seems that Gia and Karen’s other housemate is getting married soon.

They were all living rent-free in the bride’s nan’s old house, so I’m guessing impending nuptials are the reason Gia and Karen are looking for somewhere new and cheap to live.

Not really my problem though. Then, it took a turn from the entitled to just plain dumb. Karen, Gia and Gia’s dad met with solicitor, where they unveiled their secret weapon.

They had a copy of my lease with the Polish roommate.

I was right, in that their rent-free ride was over, and they had no money saved. Gia had been used to me as a cash machine for years, I guess, so thought I would just roll over?

So these brainiacs’ plan was that they would take over the existing lease agreement from the roommate and his girlfriend without my involvement.

They had a key, they had my payment details from the tenancy agreement.

Luckily, the account’s sole purpose was for rent, so I can change that number easily. They thought they could just write their names on the form as well and it would be legally binding.

Never mind the fact that there is no subletting, the agreement was with someone else, and the agreement was terminated by the old roommate.

The solicitor says they only tried to argue their point for a minute before giving up.

Meeting at her office gave her real homefield psychological advantage I think. That and, you know, every freaking law in the land. She was laughing on the phone about it. Honestly, these people are nearly 40.

How they have no idea how a lease works is beyond me.

Long stupid story short, Gia’s dad has agreed to pay a moving company to collect the boxes and bring them to his house. I need to be there for that, but I will slam the door at the first sign of anyone other than a mover.

I’m out about 350 quid in solicitors fees. I can accept that. I mean I’d preferred not to have that happen, but who knows what would have happened if they got in or got their day in court.

At least I’ll always have a video of my ex failing to pull a fast one on me, and the record of her being called to my solicitor’s office like they’ve been called to the office by the head teacher.

ThriceFangedCaramel

71. I Do & You Don’t

I’ll start this off by saying my wedding is scheduled for April because my fiancé has always dreamed of a spring wedding. And I really like the idea too.

I have an older brother though. And last Saturday I was called over to my parents’ house to talk about something. But they refused to tell me what until I got there. They then sat me down with my brother and told me that my brother wants to use my wedding as the perfect day for him to propose to his girlfriend.

I was instantly mad and told them ABSOLUTELY NOT!! I couldn’t believe their reaction. They all ganged up on me. I ended up so enraged to the point that I, one man, somehow backed all three of them into a corner.

I told them that if they want to do this, then not only will they all be uninvited, but I’ll also cut off the financial support I’ve been giving monthly since they paid to have my golden child brother go through college by taking out a second mortgage.

I landed a decently high-paying job and have been sending five hundred dollars to my parents monthly to help ease their mortgage. And I didn’t ask for a stake in the ownership of their house either because I really don’t want it.

It was entirely goodwill. And I can cut it off any time. I left without speaking anything more to them.

But my brother came to my home the next day to yell at me that I ruined his big chance because now our parents are siding with me and say they’ll evict him if he tries to propose at my wedding.

He said I was financially blackmailing our parents, and that he just wanted a good chance to propose because he was afraid his girlfriend might leave him soon.

I said that was his problem, not mine.

Because my wedding day is not about him. That’s when I laid down the law. And if he tries to propose at my wedding, I WILL have him thrown out. That’s not a maybe, but a definite.

And I doubt his girlfriend would appreciate her proposal followed up with being tossed out by a bouncer.

He yelled a few choice words at me, then went crying to our only surviving grandparent. Our maternal grandmother.

And she called to try and ream me over the phone. No surprise my brother heavily embellished the version of the story he told her. But she still sided with him after I gave her the real story.

She tried to hold her ground, but the verbal backlash I ended up giving her left her crying.

That got back to my parents, who were furious at me for taking things so far. But I told them I only went that far because I had to when they were all trying to get me to let my brother use my wedding as his springboard for a proposal.

They ended up agreeing with me, but still stated they feel like I’m crass. And my brother showed up at my home again to scream at me that I’m a jerk, and I hope I’m happy with myself for not allowing him the opportunity.

My fiancé knows what my brother tried to do. And she’s very angry about it. She’s almost ready to have him uninvited if he pursues this any further. Normally I have a very mild temper.

But when it comes to certain people like my brother, parents, and grandmother, I can easily get short with them because of all the past favoritism.

My grandmother especially. She always sided with my brother and believed his lies no matter what he did.

She’s the biggest reason my parents favored my brother too. She kept trying to convince me over the phone to let my brother propose at my wedding, so much that I ended up losing it on her.

I ended up speaking with my brother again and threatened to tell his girlfriend if he was still intending to propose at my wedding without permission.

He took it poorly and called me an awful person.

So I pointed out that my wedding isn’t about him. Our parents were there for this, and they backed me up. I think my brother did a double-take when they did that. My dad pointed out that he’d raised my brother wrong, and that was on him.

So from now on my brother was to show them real respect.

And they wanted to get an official lease drawn up for him to pay proper rent and utilities. He was only paying them $300 a month without contributing to any utilities or food.

And if he doesn’t want to pay, he can move out and they’ll rent his room to someone else. My brother turned to our mom for help. But she just agreed with dad.

He looked like he was having a conniption and then left the house. He came back a couple hours later, but spoke to no one and locked himself in his room. Two days later my brother announced he was moving in with grandma because she invited him.

And our parents basically told him that if he wants to live with her, then to go ahead.

My brother responded to this by saying we all hate him for just wanting to propose to his girlfriend.

My parents pointed out that it’s not that he wanted to propose, but where he wanted to do it. And he’d get no support for it. He’s refusing to talk to our parents now.

My grandmother did try to call me again. But it ended up with me telling her that my brother will not be allowed to propose at my wedding, plain and simple.

So he can get over it, or not come.

And the same goes for her. I ended up calling her out on her favoritism towards my brother since we were kids. Which she tried to deny at first, but couldn’t keep doing so because of how much I’d pointed out.

She ended up crying again while I told her that if she keeps trying to insist on this, then she won’t be coming to my wedding.

She begged me not to rescind her invite.

But still said she doesn’t understand why I couldn’t let my brother have his way before ending the call. My fiancé is 100% on my side. And is fully ready to remove my brother and grandmother from the wedding.

My grandmother hasn’t called again. And she’s not talking to my parents either.

My guess is my brother went crying to her again to tell her mommy and daddy weren’t enabling him anymore.

So she offered for him to move in with her. But there’s literally nothing she can do to sway me. And I think my last conversation with her made her realize that. But then, something happened that made everything 1,000 times more complicated.

My brother’s girlfriend saw my post about the issue on Reddit and she called me up. She realized it might be me with the way I described my brother and grandmother. So yeah, now she knows.

She ended up tearing my brother a new one. And he still tried to justify himself to her. That’s when she told him they were through and cut all contact with him.

My brother, of course, blamed me.

Even though his girlfriend said that she’s been ready to leave him for a while now, and if he’d tried to propose, no matter where, she’d have told him “No”. So that’s it.

My brother showed up at my place one more time to have a fit, and said he is boycotting my wedding. He actually thought he had leverage that he and grandma won’t go.

I said I wouldn’t miss him, and that he’s in his 30s now and needs to grow up.

Our parents have cut the umbilical and are no longer supporting him. And they’re already repainting his room to rent it to someone else. And they plan on renting out my old bedroom as well because they need the money after the financial hole he left them in after dropping out of college

They spent the world on him and he wasn’t the least bit grateful. That made my brother just shut down and leave.

And since then we’ve not heard a peep out of him.

Soon-To-Wed-Throaway

72. The Bad Wedding Hall Of Fame

So this happened yesterday and I’m at a loss for words. I proposed to my now-fiancée back in 2018 and other than initial decisions on which venue, we haven’t made a single step in further planning our wedding. With the pandemic going on we decided to hold any future wedding plans off until this situation is 100% solved.

Well, yesterday I was on a Zoom call with several of my cousins just catching up on things and whatnot. At some point on the call one of my cousins’ wives barged into the conversation and pretty much took over it.

She’s not well-liked at all in our family so the call ended soon after she invited herself in. Anyways, about 30 minutes after the call had ended, my cousin’s wife called up my phone.

Before I could even say hello, she just started interrogating me about my wedding and when I said that we haven’t planned anything yet, she began gushing about how we should hold it at the venue she held hers along with catering, DJ, and so forth even as going as far as to “donate” us her playlist.

She said she’ll get right to it and she’ll handle everything for us.

Now, if there was an award for the worst wedding ever, this one would be in their hall of fame.

First, the venue was a dump; in the middle of nowhere with no roads connecting to it from the highway. It was so bad many of the guests weren’t able to find it so a lot of them were extremely late or ended up getting frustrated and traveling back home.

Furthermore, the venue was not handicap-friendly so it wasn’t fun for the more elderly and wheelchair-bound guests including this woman’s own brother. Also, the venue had no restrooms available and the only ones that were available were located about a 30-minute walk away.

Seriously. Adding on, when we got to the venue we saw that there were a lot of cats literally on the guest tables and some guests were horrified to find cat poop at their designated seats/tables.

The staff took their time to do something about it so those guests left soon after. Next, the food. The food itself was horrible, the deserts were in a horrible shape and were nothing but a crumbling crust and fruit paste that had to be scraped onto the plate, the cooked dishes weren’t properly stored beforehand and a lot of it smelled spoiled which later turned out to be true since people began complaining about stomach pains.

Third, wedding ceremony in the midst of summer at an outdoor venue = NOT A GOOD IDEA. The wedding ceremony was INCREDIBLY long (about two hours). Again it was the middle of summer at an outdoor venue so it was HOT.

Not only staff had closed the bar for the two whole hours of the ceremony, we weren’t even able to get glasses of water.

Fourth: the staff, they were highly unprofessional and while they did have fans set up at the beginning around the tables and dance floor, they were later picked up and the owner refused to get them out even though people were starting to fry.

Finally—the music/DJ. The music was ridiculously loud.

While of course it’s only natural for people to have a different taste in music, let’s just say that the playlist my cousins had chosen didn’t fit a wedding at all.

If anything it was more suitable for hotel’s kids pool gymboree. Needless to say, with the lack of any ventilation and the extremely loud volume, other than my cousin’s wife and her few sisters and friends, the dancefloor was mostly deserted.

I didn’t stay long either and left right after my fiancée began complaining about severe stomach pains which later turned out to be from the spoiled food. We spent the night at the ER, so that was fun.

Back in the present, my cousin’s wife kept running my ear off how amazing hers was and how ours could be just as amazing if we stuck to her plan—meaning, copy-paste hers onto ours.

When she had noticed I was silent she was about to pitch her idea to me again but I quickly shut it down.

I reminded her how a good chunk of her guests ended up with food poisoning, my fiancée included, as well as that several of the said guests later on sued the venue. I then informed her that my fiancée and I have already decided our venue.

I basically informed her that while I appreciated her willingness to help out, our tastes do not match and would prefer to consult people who are more familiar with my fiancée and myself. I was furious and wanted to rage on about how her wedding sucked and our grandfather (mine and her husband’s grandfather) nearly ended up dehydrated but I held it in and simply ended the call.

I knew she was upset because this was a woman who has rarely heard the word “No”.

throughout her life so I was mentally preparing for whatever hostile fire coming my way. Sure enough, cousin hits up my phone and demands to know what I said to his wife because she hasn’t stopped crying since we ended our conversation.

I told him she decided upon herself to plan our wedding but I refused.

He was a bit over the top at first but calmed down a bit after I explained myself, he knows I wouldn’t make stuff up. His wife on the other hand said I called her names, that my fiancée hates her, that we’re going to sue her and that my family can’t wait until cousin divorces her. Sigh.

I chuckled a bit and told cousin exactly what I said and even offered to send him a recording of the call (all of my calls are recorded, trust issues). He said he’d like to listen to it so I later sent him the recording.

He later called again and said that they had a big argument and she went to spend the night at a friend’s.

Later that night it was brought up to my attention that CW went on to social media to say how I’m a horrible person who hates her and is the sole reason why her marriage is crumbling.

However she soon removed the posts when people who know better came to defend me and I even made a reply that I can share the recording with whoever’s interested.

Pnapple_Upsdwn_cake

73. Not Such A Mystery After All

For those not in the know, a mystery shopper is a person assigned by the company to make random unannounced inspections with regard to customer service and in general, the well-being of the company employees and the store.

Also, it is customary for the mystery shopper to BLEND in with everyday customers and NOT bring attention to themselves, in a way that can be misconstrued as just another obnoxious and rude customer. i.e act like a jerk, get treated like a jerk.

This woman didn’t get that memo. One day around lunchtime, my boss was in the back having her lunch. I was out on the shop floor and serving customers—an unusually high amount, but nothing that I couldn’t handle on my own, since my co-worker wasn’t going to be in later, when in walks this Karen. As I was serving the queue of customers, I half-heartedly said, “Hi, welcome to …” ( I was hungry) while still serving and ringing through items.

She gives a harrumph and says, under her breath, that it’s polite to make eye contact. Alarm bells. She hums and haws while I’m making my way cautiously and correctly through the remaining customers, all the while she’s making daggers, and eventually storms off in a huff looking around.

 Like I can come away from paying customers, just to help her.

As the last two customers make their way to the till, she joins the queue with a whole two items, with an audible “Oh, for heaven’s sake”! The customer I’m serving looks at me with a confused expression and I nod. Then she mutters:

“This is freaking ridiculous”. Finalizing the payment before moving on to the next customer, the till decides to freeze and it takes a few minutes for it to re-boot.

I make my apologies, and the customer I’m serving is fine with it, along with the other customer behind.

But the horrible Karen keeps muttering and at one point she says, “Ugh. The service in this establishment is absolutely RIDICULOUS”. I had enough. With my best passive-aggressive customer service voice and smile, I replied.

 

I say: “Listen, as you can clearly see I am dealing with other customers. I am the only staff member on the floor as my boss is at lunch. The till has decided to not play nice, and to be perfectly honest with you, I am well within my rights to refuse you service and ask you to leave as your attitude absolutely stinks”. She says: “WHAT?! YOU CAN’T TALK TO ME THAT WAY!

!! DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM”?

I told her: “I really don’t care to be honest, now I am once again asking you to leave”. She storms off in the foulest mood you ever did see.

The customer I am serving says, “Thank the lord you said something, I was ready to smack her”. We both laugh and I finish both services and thank them for their patience. They both worked in another store where we were based.

My boss has finally finished her lunch at this point, and has come through the front. That’s when my boss drops it on me. She says: “Oh, I meant to say there’s going to be a mystery shopper in at some point.

Don’t know who, but please be on your best behavior”. I think oh noooo. I quickly tell her what happened and explained that I was busy but not too busy that I needed to involve her and the conversation as it happened.

And lo and behold just as I’m finished telling her, in walks the Regional Manager for the company. He yells at me to go to the back office now. I know it’s bad. Now, knowing that the RM has a tendency to be a hot-head in these situations I was losing my mind at this point.

Thankfully, I have had a reasonably good working relationship with him up until this point, so it really could go any way.

I tried to stay unusually calm as he asked me what happened. I explain EVERYTHING.

From the moment she entered, to the moment she stormed off (almost taking the door with her) and the fact that I had witnesses that worked in the immediate vicinity. The full shebang. He sighs and nods.

But I still can’t believe what he said next. He tells me: “I’m finally glad that someone else has the balls to stand up to my wife”.

WHAT?!?!?!? The look on my face said it all and he starts to laugh.

He says: “Please, accept my apologies and I will let your manager know that there’s not to be any repercussions of this. And I think it’s time to let my wife know it’s time to find more suitable employment”. I was speechless.

He hands me a £20 gift card for the mall’s cafe and said lunch was on him.

That was the best coffee and chicken/bacon club sandwich I ever had.

Academic_Grade_5260

74. The Ballad Of Officer Nephew

I live in one of those middle-of-nowhere desert towns where almost everyone knows almost everyone and it’s hot as heck, but dirt cheap to buy a home or land in.

And it’s not uncommon for old cars to last out here as they almost never rust and people keep fixing them. After high school I worked my behind off at a local job to get my own place.

I ended up buying a small plot of land with a trailer on it off of a local guy. Ten years have gone by since then. And for a while, I spent a lot of my time tinkering with an old 87 Monte Carlo that I bought super cheap as it was without an engine or transmission.

I loved that car as an older cousin of mine had one when I was a kid and I always wanted one of my own.

I spent two years fixing up the one I got with help from some friends and finished it in 2019.

The car was fun to drive and looked good. And I kept it in good order. That is, until this mess went down. Now I didn’t really trust some of the local law enforcement out here before.

And this gave me even more reason not to.

A lot of the guys around here are barely qualified for the job. They are practically hired with a handshake and just told to play Doom for training. Granted though many of them are really nice.

The sheriff is even kinda a friend of mine. But he’s really one of the only competent ones there. Most of the rest really don’t do their jobs very well.

Especially whenever a new one gets hired on.

Like a guy that went out of his way to move to my town just to get to be a cop. In this case, he was the nephew of the sheriff. He even brought his own Crown Vic with a loudspeaker to drive around town in.

Let’s call this guy Officer Nephew. He and I didn’t know each other personally yet. But I was aware of him.

One Saturday morning I took my Monte Carlo out to meet a friend.

But they ended up bailing because of a last-minute issue with their girlfriend. I thought “Meh. No problem. I’ll just get some fast food and go home”. I went to the local burger place and got a meal to go.

And as I was walking out there was a lady outside looking over my car.

People would stop here and there to ask me about my car and where I got it. I usually don’t mind talking so long as they are polite.

Though this woman ended up anything but. I asked her if she liked my car. She stood up, took one look at me and snickered. I asked her what was so funny. I guess she figured I was poor or something.

So she was probably judging my appearance.

She looked me up and down in a very obvious way. And then said “There’s no way this is your car! You couldn’t possibly afford something this nice”!

Now I have a tendency to get sarcastic or snide when people make assumptions about me. So I said back “Oh really lady? The title is in my name. And these keys right here in my hand say I’m the owner too”.

The Karen just glared at me as I put the keys in the lock and began to open the door. I looked behind her and noticed a beige 90s Volvo with a missing headlight and had out-of-state plates on it parked not far from me.

I put two and two together and laughed. “Let me guess lady? That’s your car over there”?! She started to turn beet red.

I laughed and said “Oh don’t be ashamed. Those things aren’t lookers but they’ll run forever”!

I figured this was over, but as I was opening my car door, I suddenly felt her nails digging into my shoulder. She was screeching so loud my ears were hurting. And before I could turn around she kicked me between my legs from behind with a high-heeled shoe so hard I collapsed in agony.

And true to my luck, Officer Nephew drove right up because he’d heard her screeching from down the street during his noon patrol. As soon as Officer Nephew was out of his car the Karen ran to him crying and saying that I was a carjacker that was attempting to take her new car.

I wasn’t looking at either of them as I was on the ground wincing in a fetal position from the pain.

The next thing I heard was Officer Nephew yelling “PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK”!

And then I was being pinned down by his knee on my spine and forcibly cuffed. I tried telling Officer Nephew that I knew his uncle and can prove I am the real owner of the car.

But he called me White Trash and told me to shut up. That’s when it really spiraled out of control.

He picked my keys up off the ground and actually handed them to the Karen.

Then he seemed to do a hero pose while she gave me a hideous grin. No matter what I said Officer Nephew wasn’t listening to me because he fully believed her. And then I had to see Karen start up my car and drive off with it.

My heart sank as I watched it sail down the road with her flipping me off.

Then Officer Nephew dragged me back to the sheriff’s office. I’d hoped his uncle was in. But just my bad luck he was out to lunch.

So Officer Nephew put me in the cell and told me to keep quiet. I was furious! But I knew I wasn’t gonna make my situation any better, so I just waited. And during that time Officer Nephew kept giving me looks of contempt.

At least an hour went by and the sheriff finally came in through the door nursing a big gulp. But froze the second he saw me. “What are you doing here”?! he asked. I was about to speak when Officer Nephew jumped in and said, “I caught this lowlife creep trying to take a lady’s car!

So I hauled him in”! That’s when I finally got my chance to speak and said “Yeah! Only it was my car! The one you know I spent so long fixing up”!

Officer Nephew just rolled his eyes and said not to listen to me.

But the sheriff silenced him and asked my full story. As I tried to tell it Officer Nephew was making dismissive looks and kept repeatedly interrupting until the sheriff told him to sit down and shut up.

Then when I was finally able to say everything that happened—he was furious.

The sheriff laid into Officer Nephew, who was cowering in a chair like a little boy and saying that it indeed was my car, and he stupidly gave my keys to a thief that had hit me.

Officer Nephew started frantically apologizing and trying to say he was just trying to help. But the sheriff called him an idiot that just wanted to play hero by saving a damsel in distress.

And now the whole department would be in hot water for his unlawful detainment.

Then he finally let me out of the cell. I got some ice for my crotch and got taken home. The sheriff and Officer Nephew went back to the burger restaurant. But the Karen’s car was no longer there.

They got the CCTV footage from the camera the restaurant had looking outside.

It caught everything minus the audio. The Karen came back riding piggyback with a guy on a motorcycle over a half-hour from the time she left with my car.

She blew him a kiss and then drove off in her Volvo. The sheriff scrambled everyone, even Officer Nephew to try and chase her down. But they couldn’t find her as she’d already driven out of the county lines.

Some phone calls were made to other departments to look for her. And I had to sit at home with an ice pack on my crotch all evening waiting for news on what happened. A couple days later my car was found just a few miles out of town.

The Karen had broken all of the windows with what I’m assuming was the tire iron and then put the car in neutral and let it coast down a deep rocky hill, which rolled it into the bottom ditch which smashed the front end and warped the frame.

It was completely totaled. I wanted to cry from the sound of metal grinding on rock as the tow truck pulled it back up. Officer Nephew was there too. And he couldn’t even look at me the entire time.

My insurance also didn’t wanna cover the car. So the sheriff’s office was made to pay me the value of my Monte Carlo instead, since Officer Nephew let it happen. Which was only about five grand.

Though that was honestly close to what I had into it since I did almost all the work by hand with the help of friends. Officer Nephew also paid me another two thousand for my trouble and said it was most of his savings.

The Karen was caught at a motel a state over some time later and detained for a bunch of reasons. Grand theft auto was just one of many things she was charged with.

I got on a video call just to see her in court and testify.

She looked like a wreck the whole time because she knew she was screwed. And it wasn’t long before she was pronounced guilty. She got ten years behind bars with no possibility of parole.

As for Officer Nephew, the sheriff all but begged me not to sue him because he was his nephew and he promised his sister he’d look out for the guy.

I’m not a sue-happy person, so I let it go provided Officer Nephew actually take some sort of course on how to properly do his job.

And so the incident was more or less rug-sweeped and Officer Nephew was demoted to sitting at a desk all day answering phones, and they would be docking part of his pay until every penny was paid back.

He’s still regulated to desk duty half of the time these days. And he still avoids me any time I’m near him. Arguably he’s a better cop now though because he mellowed out.

As for me, it took some time, but with help, I finally located a replacement Monte Carlo project car with a clean title. The sheriff personally came by to help my friends and I build the new car in his downtime.

It took a year, but now I’ve got a fresh-looking Monte Carlo that looks just like my old one. You’d never know they weren’t the same car. I’ve made sure to have better insurance this time around, and I’ll be darned if I ever let a Karen near my car again.

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75. If A Tree Falls In The Suburbs…

I have been living away from home ever since graduating from college. My parents both retired recently and last summer they decided to use some of the money they’d saved up to finally build their dream retirement home in New Orleans, where they’ve been living for the past ten years.

I come from a very tight-knit family so I still talk to my parents every week, and they were so excited when they said they’d already picked out the location where they wanted the house built.

It was an empty lot in a nice neighborhood where a house had been demolished not long before due to age, and the previous owner, who was pretty wealthy and owned numerous properties around the city, decided that the lot was worth more without the house on it.

Anyway, my parents snapped it up as soon as it came on the market, but not long after construction began, they realized that they were building their dream house right next door to the lair of a wild Karen.

The trouble started when my parents had to cut down a large oak tree that sat in the front of the lot.

It was a real beauty, too, one of those big southern live oaks, and although they didn’t want to, they knew they had to remove it because it was in the way. No one likes to cut down a big beautiful tree, and believe me, if there was a way to avoid doing it without impeding the construction, my parents would have taken it.

So they called a tree removal service, and the tree was soon gone. Well, a few days after the tree had been cut down, my dad was on the property talking to some of the construction guys and making sure everything was going smoothly.

He was going back to his car when he saw a woman in her late 50s walk out of the house next door and head to her mailbox.

My dad—let’s call him John—is a pretty chill and laid-back guy who likes to be on good terms with everyone, so he walked over and introduced himself. “Hi,” he said, holding out his hand.

“My name’s John and my wife and I are going to be your neighbors once our house is finished. I just wanted to come over and say hi and introduce myself. It’s nice to meet you.

What’s your name”?

Karen glanced at the extended hand, then looked up at my dad and glared at him. “My name is none of your business,” she snapped. “I’m not going to shake your hand because of Covid, and even if there was no Covid, I still wouldn’t shake your hand because you people ruined my life when you cut down my tree! I still can’t believe how selfish you are.

You should both be ashamed of yourselves”!

My dad was taken aback by this and pointed out that Karen already had a nice big oak tree in her backyard, but Karen ignored him and stalked back inside her house.

She never explained why she thought she was the owner of the tree that had been cut down, not once, and whenever my parents asked about it, she refused to answer.

I guess it’s just one of those things we’ll never know, like what really happened to the lost Roanoke colony or the fate of D.B. Cooper.

My parents met some of their other neighbors later that day, including a nice elderly couple who lived in the other house next door to Karen’s, and when my dad told them what happened, the neighbors said Karen was like that to everyone and no one in the neighborhood liked her.

They also said that Karen had been nasty to them for a long time and they were in the process of selling their house because they couldn’t stand living next door to her anymore.

Karen soon began living up to her reputation. For months, whenever my parents would visit the house to see how the construction was coming along, she’d find something to complain or confront them about.

One time she said the construction workers were being too loud and threatened to call the authorities, even though it was the middle of the day. Another time she said that the construction company was using undocumented immigrants as cheap labor and threatened to call ICE and have the whole project shut down. My dad mentioned this to the owner of the company, and the owner sent Karen a formal letter threatening a lawsuit if she tried.

I don’t know if there were any actual grounds for a lawsuit, but the threat must have worked because ICE never showed up. Oh, and then there was the time she tried to have my parents’ car towed for parking when they parked by the curb of their still-unfinished house.

The first my parents knew about this was when the tow truck showed up, but the driver took one look at where my parents’ car was parked and told Karen he’d send her a bill for wasting his time if she called him again.

I could go on. Karen did everything she could think of try and interfere. She was absolutely relentless in her crusade to avenge a tree she never even owned. Happily, the house was completed despite her best efforts and my parents finally moved in not long after the holidays.

My mom told me later that she caught Karen watching them bitterly from her window as they were taking some of their boxes inside. She was concerned that Karen might keep going and try something else, but I guess Karen was too busy wallowing in self-pity over her failure or something because things were actually quiet for a while.

But a few weeks ago, things changed. New Orleans has had some really bad weather lately due to the winter storms that are battering much of the southern US right now, and one night, one of those storms was so powerful that it knocked over the tree in Karen’s backyard.

It missed falling onto her house, but it didn’t miss falling onto her shiny new Jaguar and crushing it like a can.

According to my folks, Karen didn’t discover what happened until the following morning.

When she came outside and saw the pile of scrap metal that used to be her car, she threw back her head and let out a primal scream like something out of The Exorcist. She had to pay a tree removal service to get rid of the tree, and then she had to pay for a tow truck to get rid of the car too, and then she had to get a rental car too.

Karen put her property up for sale and moved out not long afterward.

Everyone in the neighborhood was glad to see her go, and my parents enjoyed watching her drive off into the sunset from the front porch of their amazing new house.

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76. Comically Entitled

This happened back in the 90s when I had my second comic store.

One afternoon I was in my store going thru inventory when a woman walked in. This was unusual back then because, well it was. I saw that she did have the precursor to what would become the “Karen Cut,” was wearing large rimmed glasses and a skirt that was the style back then.

I figured she might be looking for a gift for her son, so I asked her if I could help. She asked me if I bought boxes of comics. I told her usually not, unless there was something I could use but I would take a look.

So we go to her car and bring in a couple of long boxes. (These hold about 300 unbagged/boarded books or 250 boarded) and I went thru them.

They were all bagged and seemed to be in good shape.

They were the popular books at that time. X-Men, Hulk, Ghost Rider. I thought I could sell them and offered her $100 for the lot and she accepted. She left and I put the boxes on a table to price them and sort them out.

About 20 minutes later a kid (about 12) walks in and looks at the books on the wall and notices the boxes.

He asked if they were for sale and I said yes, but they weren’t priced out yet so if there was something he wanted I’d give him the price then and he started looking thru them.

After a few seconds, he had a strange look on his face and I asked him if something was wrong. I’ll never forget what he said: “These are my books”. I said, “What”? and he repeated it.

I asked him if he could verify it and he said that he had a code written on every board and he could recite them. I then pulled out five books at random and he nailed every code.

I asked him to describe his mother and he described the woman that sold me the books. I told him not to worry, he’ll get them back. I asked for his phone number and I called it, placed it on speaker, and waited.

After a few rings, she answered and I responded. “Mrs. Karen, your son is here and informed me that the books you sold me did not belong to you. Will you please come down and give me back the $100 and he can have his books back as I do not buy stolen merchandise”. Her response:

“MY SON IS IN YOUR STORE”? She screams at him to get out of there now and never to set foot in there again.

She shrieks that if he ever comes in she will have me sent to jail. The kid was in tears.

All he muttered was, “You took my books”. She continues her rant. “I DON’T WANT THAT STUFF IN MY HOUSE. GET OUT NOW”! And then she slams the phone down. I let the kid sit down while I processed what just happened.

While this was going on another kid and his mother saw him and said hello, and saw he was crying.

They knew him and the new kid’s mother asked what happened and the kid told her. She was, to say the least, disgusted and said she’ll take him home and have a few words with his mother.

Before he left I asked him what he wanted to do. He said do whatever it takes. I asked, “What if I need to call the authorities”? He said that would be okay. I said I’m going to try one more thing before that.

About 7:30 that night I called the number (this was before caller ID) and got the father and explained what happened that afternoon. Only thing he said was, “She did what”?? I repeated and again he said the same.

Then Karen realized who he was talking to and started screaming. The father just said for her to shut up. Then he thanked me and said he would handle it and asked what time I closed.

About 15 minutes later I see the kid and his father with Karen being dragged along and she is shrieking so loud dogs three counties away had bleeding ears. He drags her in and tells her to give me back the $100.

She yells that she doesn’t want that stuff in her house and she won’t do it. She’s going to have me detained for selling this stuff to children and how could they let me open in this town.

She hated Superman and baseball cards. She breaks away from the father and attempts to kick out my showcase and it was only because he managed to grab her collar and yank her back that they weren’t smashed.

She then tried to shove my computer off the counter but I managed to stop her. The father gave me back what I paid plus a little extra for all the trouble and apologized.

Karen said she’ll just set them on fire.

Father said no. He is bringing them to his business and would keep them safe from her. He also said he would come with the kid in the future. Later, I found out about the aftermath. Karen basically destroyed the relationship and never apologized.

After the kid graduated he joined the army, married, and had a kid.

He doesn’t see her often but allows contact when the father is there. All over comic books.

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77. Mall Misfortune

My mom is Filipino, but raised in California and doesn’t have an accent or anything, while my dad is a white dude. I look like my dad (pale) and I don’t look Asian at all. This happened when I was an infant, but my mom told me the story because my husband and I are going to have kids soon.

It was the most deranged thing I’ve ever heard.

My family was at the mall, with me in the stroller. Obviously, in comes the Karen. My dad went to the restroom real quick and my mom decided to sit down and wait for him.

Karen: “Oh how cute, how old is she”?. Mom: “She’s five months old”. The Karen looked at my mom, confused. Karen: “Oh, are you the nanny”? Mom: “nope I’m the…” Karen: “You must be the babysitter”.

Mom is in shock.

Mom: “No I’m the mom. I gave birth to her”. Karen: “But she doesn’t look like you at all”. Mom: “Well no, but she does look like her father”. Karen: “Nonsense! The child doesn’t look like you and I don’t see a father around! You probably took this poor child”. Mom is total shock and scared, then this insane woman tried to take me out of the stroller. Mom: “What the heck are you doing, that’s my baby”!

Karen: “I’m going to find this child’s real parents”. My dad comes back out and sees what’s going on and ran to my mom’s side. Dad:

“What are you doing, let go of my daughter’s stroller”!. Karen looked at him and then at me, realizing I look like my dad. Karen: “Oh, she does look like her father. Okay, never mind”. She walked away.

Yes, my parents reported her for attempted kidnapping, but we never found out what happened to her.

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78. The Wannabe Firer Becomes The Fired

I work in a hospital that specializes in elective surgeries and my boss is the best in his field.

One day, I got a call I’ll never forget. I answer and this entitled jerk yells: “I need an appointment so I can schedule surgery and I was told by the doctor through email to call to be scheduled next week”. Me, confused:

 “I’m sorry, I am not too certain what you are referring to. The doctor is not going to be in the office next week and their next availability for consultations are not until May”.

The jerk:

“What are you talking about?? They told me in the email to call to schedule it and I am a sitting judge so I need an appointment NEXT WEEK”. I say: “Okay ma’am. Give me one moment while I look into this”. I put her on hold and walk into my supervisor’s office and ask if my boss had sent word about a last minute patient being added on that I was just unaware of.

They say no, but to ask if the patient can forward the email so we can confirm, as boss was in the OR.

This is a common practice in the office I work in as there are instances where boss talks to a patient but forgets to inform the staff. If we are overbooked for a day, my supervisor has to open a specific time frame in order to schedule any last minute patients.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am but are you able to forward the email to me? It does not seem there is any record of you coming to our office for an earlier appointment. I just need to confirm before I schedule”. For some reason, this statement activates some secret emotional switch in the back of this woman’s brain and she immediately becomes more hostile.

Her: “No I will not.

I am a sitting judge and you asking me this is extremely rude and unprofessional. I spoke to the doctor through email. Are you actually doubting me right now”? I just said…yeah. They continued:

“I can’t believe this. I need to have surgery on X date and you will give it to me”. By this point, I was 1000% over this woman.

I said: “Okay, ma’am. I will ask my boss to send me the email when he is out of the OR.

So I unfortunately have to get back to you on your appointment date”. Her: “Thank you. And just as a word of advice, watch your tone the next time you speak to me”. Then she hangs up.

A few hours later, my boss comes back into the OR and tells me they have received an email from the judge stating that I was rude and unprofessional to her.

She claimed that I was refusing services to her because I wanted to invade her privacy and she said no.

Luckily, I was way ahead of her. The whole time I was on the phone with this patient, my supervisor was in my office listening to the entire call on speaker phone, otherwise no one would have been able to confirm that I was not being unreasonable and rude to this patient.

My boss goes on to explain that they never promised an earlier appointment to her in the first place, but to check with the office to be put on the waitlist for an earlier date.

Now knowing that the judge is nothing but a miserable liar that throws tantrums when no one believes her, I asked my boss if it was really worth it keeping her as a patient to which they said no.

While I was happy with this decision because I don’t have to deal with her anymore, I felt bad for any other physician that had to deal with this lady in the future. What I didn’t know at this point was that my supervisor called patient advocacy—essentially an HR that handles awful patients—and they agreed that her behavior warranted her not to be accepted as a patient BY ANY PHYSICIAN WITHIN THE HOSPITAL.

So now my boss, supervisor, and I have to call her tomorrow to inform the hospital’s decision to discharge her.

Honestly, karma is not something you should mess with.

79. The Shining, Hospital Edition

When I was 20, I got my tonsils removed. The initial surgery went well but a few hours later, when I woke up from my post anaesthesia nap, I opened my mouth and blood started pouring out.

Turns out I had immediate post-op bleeding. I was admitted to the ER and was scheduled to have corrective surgery the next day. But then, tragedy struck.

The doctor for the second surgery got into a freaking car crash on the way to the hospital.

My surgery was postponed for three days and I was moved out of the ER and into a regular hospital bed. I was in pain, starving, and every time I opened my mouth blood would pour out.

The person in the bed next to me had a host of entitled visitors (I think they were family) who were constantly talking at max volume.

I decided to try and politely ask for them to keep the volume down a little, and boy that was a mistake. Me: “Hey guys, would you mind keeping the volume down a little?

I’m trying to sleep but it feels like you’re talking very loudly and the curtain doesn’t block out the sound that well so I can hear everything”. The patient says: “Ignore her.

I haven’t seen any doctors or specialists come and check on her since she’s been here, only nurses. Obviously, she’s not that sick, she’s just being overdramatic and is annoyed I actually have visitors”.

Me: “Actually the reason is…” One of their visitors then noticed my self-harm scars: “Okay, I think I get it.

They didn’t have any space at the funny farm for you so they stuck you with actual sick people”? They all start laughing at this obviously hilarious observation. At this point, I knew I needed to gargle some more hydrogen peroxide before the bloodgates in my mouth release and cause a tsunami of blood.

I said: “You’re absolutely right! My bad I was just…wait…sorry…I just…” At this point, mid-sentence, I simply opened my mouth and blood came pouring out of my mouth and onto my hospital gown, right in front of them. They freaked out.

It was horror movie level. I was in a lot of pain and I was internally screaming, but my pettiness got the best of me and I gave them a blood-covered toothy smile.

I then went back to my bed to call a nurse for painkillers and gargle some more hydrogen peroxide.

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80. Karen Finally Gets The Manager

This is a tale from one of my jobs in customer service. I work for a moving company that also offers storage services. I specifically work in the claims and disputes department, far enough up the food chain that if you are talking to me, you are most likely going to have a bad day by the time we are through.

Roughly 90% of the customers I deal with have their cases sent to me because they are terrorizing the people that work on my team.

So July of 2020, in the middle of our busiest summer ever, this case comes across my desk.

So I call this Karen about her pricing dispute that got forwarded to me two and half weeks prior, I see on her account that she has been calling our regular customer service line daily demanding to speak to the CEO or CFO of the company.

Why they think they will actually get them is still a mystery to me.

I also see from the agent’s notes that she is claiming there is a difference in the price from what the document we sent to her was and what was being billed, odd but not impossible errors happen, but when the agent couldn’t resolve her issue immediately the exact way she wanted, out came the swear words and demands to speak to their manager’s manager.

Wonderful.

As if my day wasn’t hard enough already. She picks up her phone. Karen: “Hello”? Me: “Hi this is (me) with X Moving company calling you on a monitored and recorded line about (insert reference number here) for your billing”. Karen: “It is about time you called me, you guys are so incompetent, literally all you do is take people’s money, my god I was about to file a complaint with the BBB”.

Me: “My apologies, unfortunately due to current events there has been an unprecedented number of people moving which has caused delays in every department, which is why I am calling you today, I see that you have spoken to (insert other agents name here) and you weren’t able to reach a resolution so this was escalated to me.

I’m reaching out so we can try to get a resolution on this matter as soon as possible”.

Karen: “Oh good finally someone with sense in your company, so you’re calling to credit me back for everything I’ve spent with your company”? Me stopping, hoping I hear her wrong:

“Excuse me”? Karen: “That’s what my dispute was for, everything I have spent with your company for the last three years, I was originally going to do it with my bank but my banker explained that a claim that large would mean having to close out then reopen my entire account and it would be so much easier of I handled it through your company since you were the one billing me”.

I am floored by this. This woman stored with us for almost three years before having all of her stuff shipped almost four thousand miles away from her starting area.

We are talking billing in the range of about 15 thousand dollars. We are definitely not one of the cheap services in this field, and people usually pay the extra because of the reputation we have.

Me: “Ummm, no, I am calling you about the specifics of your dispute, I see you didn’t give them to the customer service agent when you spoke to them or the other claims agent, what part of this isn’t correct, because from what we can see all of your billing matches up with the order documents we have been sending to your online account as you requested”.

You know when people talk about someone going from 0 to 60 at the drop of a pin?

Yeah, she got on her high horse and did 0 to 120 in half that time. I legitimately had to take my headset off, holding it at arm’s length and I could still hear her screaming every obscenity in the book at me. After several minutes of this, she seemed to run out of breath (or hot air) and I was able to finally get a word in edge-wise.

Me: “Ma’am it’s my job to find the discrepancy in the billing and the documents provided to you, and IF there is a discrepancy in your favor, then credit you back for it, now which parts of this are you showing a different amount charged vs what shows on your bill”? This starts her in on another rant, all be it a much shorter one where she throws a mess of numbers at me.

This is rather confusing to me, as I am not seeing any of the numbers she is giving me on her account.

Then it suddenly hits me: Me: “Is the difference you are seeing on the long distance move this dollar amount”? Karen: “That’s what I’ve been saying, god you people need to learn how to listen”. Me: “And is the difference you are seeing on these charges this”? Karen: “Yes”.

Me: “Oh I see what the problem is, the document you have been referring to must be a quote, because the difference in all of your billing is the taxes.

You see quotes don’t include the taxes, if you look at the top of the quote it says that in bold”.

Karen: “So credit me back the taxes, you never said how much they were or that you were taking them”. Me: “I apologize but I can’t do that, when you booked your order, the official document with all taxes, fees, and discounts was presented to you at that time, you have been charged the correct amount”. Karen: “Then get me someone who can because I want my money back, you guys are nothing but a bunch of (insert slur) and thieves”.

Me: “Ma’am there is no need for the kind of language you have been using on this call, now I regret to inform you of this but nobody in this company can issue you a refund for this matter as it is not a company policy or charge but rather charges that originate at the state and federal levels.

I hate paying taxes as much as the next person does, but if you have an issue with those charges, that is something I recommend you reach out to your state senator and discuss it with them”.

Karen: “That is unacceptable and unprofessional, I demand to speak to your manager”. Me: “Yeah, that’s not going to happen, see I am the highest-level person in this company that talks to customers period full stop.

There are exactly four people in this company that are above me, none of them talk to customers ever and I have final say on any account or dispute in the company that gets escalated.

Basically, I am the manager you have been asking for, and I am telling you no, we will not be issuing a refund on your account”.

Karen: “This is unacceptable. I am going to write bad reviews for your company everywhere and report you to the BBB”! Me: “Go ahead, but so you know, any dispute filed to the BBB or social media case opened about this will come across my desk in about two weeks as I am the one closing this dispute and we both know exactly how far that will get you, in addition since all of our calls are recorded, any bad-mouthing you do on social media can and will be removed as there is proof we have been more than accommodating with you in your frivolous demands”.

Karen: “Fine, I’m just going to dispute everything with my bank, they will stand with me, they have been my bank for years”. Me: “Best of luck with that and have a nice day”. Karen hangs up and I get busy notating everything about our exchange on her account as well as her dispute, close her dispute as denied, then send emails to our accounting department and social media departments flagging her name and account, listing the details of what happened.

Now this wouldn’t be as satisfying without the follow-up I got later. After my lovely conversation with this Karen in July, in early September I got an email from our accounting department with a note saying she had tried disputing it with her bank and when they had reached out to us about the matter we provided them with all of the documentation for her billing, including the quote she had based everything off of that had the disclaimer about taxes in bold on top.

Needless to say, she didn’t win that, so all of her accounts had to be closed then reopened for no reason. But wait, it gets better. Later that month, I get an email from my social media team, she had tried filing a complaint with the BBB which was dismissed when we sent them a transcript of her call with me.

Then she tried bashing the company on social media.

This was also very short-lived as the social media team responded to her saying something along the lines that taxes weren’t something to make numerous slurs about an individual for.

They had sent me a screenshot of the responses other people were making on her post that were just tearing her a new one before she eventually deleted it.

I haven’t heard anything else about this Karen but with her antics across multiple departments, she did get blacklisted by our company so I am happy in the thought that I will never have to deal with this particular woman ever again.

Chaoticroad

81. Now That’s What I Call A Secret Weapon

When my now-adult daughter was almost three, we had a regular monthly family dinner plan. We would go to a used bookstore that was near a Mexican place we liked and a McDonald’s which our kids liked.

The Mexican restaurant would let us sit on the porch and bring Happy Meals there for the kids. One night our son (older than our daughter) was at a sleepover so we were a party of three.

After eating, we went to the used bookstore. We had a stroller with us so that our daughter could sit in it if she got too tired. She was an easy kid who would just climb into the little stroller and chill or snooze if we were not done browsing.

I was looking at cookbooks while my husband was in the kids’ section with our daughter. I noticed some redheaded chick talking to my husband.

I went back to the books for a couple of minutes and when I look up, the woman is still talking, but more talking AT him than TO him.

He was starting to look VERY uncomfortable. I can tell she is hitting on him by the way he held up his hand and pointed to his wedding ring. Being me, I let this play out for a few minutes. Mostly to laugh about with him later.

As I watch, my daughter goes to him and wraps her arm around him. She gives this woman the nastiest look I had ever seen on her face. I start walking over because I can tell that my daughter is about to say something to this woman that I will either laugh at or need to intervene because of.

As I get almost to them, my daughter tells the woman that “her daddy” already has a mommy for her and if she doesn’t get away from him, she is going to puke on her.

My daughter has ALWAYS had the ability to vomit at will. She had already used it against one of my male relatives with a weak stomach. The woman, not knowing I was behind her, told my daughter that her daddy didn’t have a mommy to go with him, and daddies NEEDED mommies.

My daughter looked at me with a look that clearly stated “She is an IDIOT. Get her away from me NOW”.

I walk past the woman and up to my husband. I put my arm around him and lean into him.

Then I put the hand wearing my wedding ring up on his chest as I look at her. The redhead doesn’t have the sense to just leave the area—but that’s not the worst part. She had to start a rant about how I should have been right by him if I wanted to keep him.

How he should go with her and divorce me because she would NEVER be away from him, and how I don’t deserve a man and she does, so she is just going to replace me and raise my kids as her own.

I looked up at my husband and asked how he kept getting the weirdos that have elevators that don’t go all the way up to want to replace me?

Redheaded chick loses it and starts saying she wants to fight me over him, that whichever one of us wins will get to keep him.

I asked her if she SERIOUSLY thought that I would bother with a fight? He was already mine, and I don’t believe in fights. Then this lunatic starts screaming that I am trying to kill her.

At that point, my daughter had enough.

She walked over to the lady and waited until the stupid, stupid woman bent down to talk to her. Then my daughter puked all over her. And sort of up onto her neck so that when she stood up, lots of it ran down her shirt.

Staff was already on the way over, and wanted to know why the lady was screaming? I told them she was hitting on my husband and then wanted to fight me for him.

I didn’t know why she suddenly started saying that I wanted to hurt her, to shoot her.

She was just being an idiot, then she got my daughter all upset so my daughter puked. I cleaned our daughter up and had her rinse out her mouth. On the way home my husband insisted we stop and buy her some ice cream.

When I asked my daughter why she thought she needed to puke on the lady, her reaction was legendary. 

My daughter told me that we had already spent enough time talking and it CLEARLY wasn’t going anywhere. So she ended it.

My daughter has always had a way of cutting through the garbage in life.

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Entitled peopleShutterstock

82. My Drinking, Not Your Problem

I drink privately, I would NEVER drink and drive, I am quiet and respectful. I have a job, I have friends, I have a nice apartment, I’ve never hurt anyone.

Most nights, I like to chill out on my couch with a drink. Thus, I often walk into my apartment building with a case of beer or whatever I decide to poison my body with that night.

Many of those nights, I’ve run into a certain middle-aged woman on the elevator. Well, yesterday I got a phone call from my landlord. Here’s how the conversation went. Me: “Hey Ray. “What’s up”? Landlord: “Uhh.

I got something awkward to tell you”. Me: “Okay… what is it”? Landlord: “Someone made a complaint about you”. Me: “What? For what”?

Landlord: “Another tenant called to say that you’re an out-of-control alcoholic, and you always walk into the building carrying drinks.

She wants you out of the building”. Me: “Umm… okay”? Long pause. We both start laughing. Landlord: “Yeah, she said the next time she sees you with any drinks, she’s calling the authorities”. Me: “Tell her I said good luck with that, and to tell me how it goes”.

You can’t get me in trouble for being drinking in peace, Karen.

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Entitled peopleShutterstock

83. Playing Favorites

I have a young sister that has honestly been the golden child to my mother but not my father for as long as I can remember.

My parents divorced when I was a teenager because my mother cheated with an old high school ex-boyfriend and has always been controlling, manipulative, and narcissistic. And sadly my sister was like her little Mini-Me.

Our mother also seemed to believe she had total authority over me any time she so much as snapped her fingers. She’d snap them and order me around like a dog. It was demeaning.

And my sister always backed her up too. So no surprise I went to live with my dad full time after our parents split while my sister stayed with mom.

The two of them were very alike.

And both pretty much stopped speaking with my father unless it was about money. Though I’m more like my dad. My father was very business-oriented and started teaching me how to do his line of work as soon as I was 16.

I got pretty good at it. And after 12 years of working for my father I was made a partner in his company.

Things were great. But then, about eight months ago tragedy struck. My father had become somewhat immunocompromised due to being a heavy smoker for much of his life and passed on at only 60 years old after he caught C19.

I met my mother and sister for the first time in years after we had a socially distanced funeral for my father over video call.

My father was cremated by his own request and buried in a local cemetery.

So there was no body or casket. My sister seemed to grieve, but my mother looked indifferent the entire time. Though I honestly was not surprised. The last time she saw my father she screamed at him that he owed her more money, and then threatened to sue him.

To which he just laughed at her.

He’d paid alimony and child support as long as he was legally mandated to, and no more than that. And he even put 30K toward my sister’s college fund.

But ten years after the divorce he was no longer legally required to send mom money anymore because of the judge’s ruling. And she’s by no means broke. She works the same job she has had for nearly three decades, fully owns the old family home we used to share, and even rents out two of the rooms in it to Air B&B regularly.

She’s by no means hurting for money. Some time after the funeral, my dad’s will was read. Apparently, he’d figured that if his bad habits didn’t eventually do him in, something else would.

And even joked about it in a pre-recorded video. I was pretty much willed nearly all of his assets from most of his money to his business and home.

He left my sister a car (2015 Nissan Altima) and about 10K in cash.

My mother only got one grand and a few other items that she’d been claiming were rightfully hers since the divorce. Beyond that, I got the rest. And my girlfriend now lives with me in the house my father passed down to me.

My sister pretty much went from finishing two years of community college to living off her boyfriend and only working part-time online for several years.

But she didn’t have it easy. During that time she got pregnant but suffered a miscarriage.

I wasn’t aware till after the funeral because we were practically no contact and no one else told me. When lockdown hit her boyfriend’s job started downsizing little by little and eventually he was only able to stay on part-time.

Which hampered hers and his finances to the point he was finally telling her she needed to look for better employment as well since he was trying to find a second job.

Then, she got pregnant.

She claims she and her boyfriend were careful, but calls it her miracle baby. Recently, I got an unexpected knock at my door. And when I answered I was unpleasantly greeted by both my mother and sister.

They both walked right in without even asking and made themselves comfortable in my living room.

My girlfriend and I shared a look of confusion and I asked why they’d come by. My sister was giggling and looking all over, opening doors and seemingly giving herself a tour of my home.

My mother had just plopped herself down on my sofa and snapped her fingers while demanding a cold bottled water. My girlfriend got the water for her and I asked what they were here for.

My sister seemed all giddy and just ignored me to continue snooping around my home. And before long I heard her yell from down the hall “Mommy, it’s perfect”! (Yes… She still calls her mommy…) My mother finally spoke up and said “Well.

I think it’s time to did your brotherly duty”. To which I was like “What”? What my mother said next was seriously twisted. 

My mother then proceeded to tell me: “Now that your father has passed, this house should have gone to me since I was his only spouse.

But you can still fix this. You make plenty of money and could just buy a new house. Your sister needs this one so much more since she’s the one with a baby on the way.

But if you’re so determined on staying, you could just keep to one room and cover all of the bills until you decide to move out”.

My GF and I know exactly where this is going.

And how it’d play out if I let it go on. So I guess you could say we were mentally prepared. I took a deep breath and stated aloud, “That’s not happening! You don’t order me around!

Especially not in my own home! Yes I make plenty of money! But like dad, I’m gonna save it for when I really need it! Not that you care”!

My mother started snapping her fingers at me like she used to and loudly stated:

“Stop! I am your mother! And you will do as I say because I brought you into this world, and I’m the one in charge here! And as far as you’re concerned, I Am God!

That means when I say ‘Jump’, you say ‘How High’?! This house is rightfully mine! And your sister will live here! Consider this your formal eviction! But since I’m gracious, I’ll give you two weeks to pack your bags and transfer the deed to me”!

.

In the back of my mind, I’m thinking “This can’t be real”! But then I just grabbed my cell phone and started dialing. My mother quickly stood up and yelled “What are you doing”!

And I retorted “I’m doing what I should have done as soon as this started! I’m calling the authorities to get you out of my house”! She started swiping at me and managed to knock my phone out of my hands.

Then she proceeded to try and stomp on it. But I was quick enough to snatch it up before she could. “That’s it! If you don’t leave I will force you out myself”!

My mother proceeded to smack me across the face. And I returned the favor. So much so I ended up knocking her back down onto the couch. She held her hand over her reddening and smeared makeup face in total shock.

And then yelled “How dare you”!

I went back to dialing on my phone and said that if she didn’t leave, I would have the authorities come and remove her by force. My sister came barreling in between us holding her arms out and saying that I should just do the right thing for once in my life and be a good big brother.

I snapped and said “Oh really? I’m the bad sibling?! Last I checked I was the one who’s had to work for a living since I was a teenager”!

“I had to do all the chores in the house while you just sat playing video games or talking with your friends all day!

And you used to take my hard-earned money just to go out shopping after you spent all of your allowance! You’re a complete mooch and thief! So I don’t owe you anything! Now both of you get out before I decide to dial this last number”!

My sister started to tear up crying like a baby and said “Mommy make him stop”!. My mother began hugging her and kissing her cheeks while giving me a  glare. Then she seemed to think she’d gotten smart and said, “You know.

If you do call 9-1-1 I can just tell them that you hit me. And who knows, I could maybe say to everyone you wanted to do a lot worse to a poor pregnant girl in need.

I don’t think that’d be very good thing for your—”.

I cut her off with a raised hand. There was one crucial detail she didn’t know. I said “Just stop! If you haven’t noticed my girlfriend over there has had her phone out recording almost this whole time!

And that means we have recorded evidence of you assaulting me first and openly stating you’d lie to the authorities! I don’t think that’d be so good for your reputation at your job, or your little Air B&B”!

If looks could kill my mother would have blown me up like a tactical nuke. But she quickly deflated and started dragging my crying sister out by the arm. My sister was somehow acting like a complete toddler and broke loose of our mother’s grip to sit down on my porch step and have a tantrum.

I just gave my mother a look and said “Do you see now! This is the result of the spoiled way you raised her”!

She glared at me again and then I was treated to a show of my mother trying to drag my sister off of my porch steps.

But she latched onto the porch handrails and kept saying “YOU PROMISED MEEEEE”! over and over again. I let out a cackle and told them both from the door to never come back. My mother flipped me the bird and then went back to trying to drag my sister off the porch.

It took a few minutes, but she finally got my sister to get up and leave with her by saying I am “a cruel heartless jerk who will burn for this”! I laughed some more and said that there’s also a special place for liars and narcissists who try to manipulate others to get their way.

My mother clenched her fists and was about to say more when I just held up my smartphone again with it recording.

I said, “The clock is ticking mom! Get off my property”! My mother then walked my sister to the car, gave me one last snooty look and drove off.

I thought that was the end of it. But letting things go was never something my mother would do. After a few days I started getting messages from people I know and some relatives online.

A lot of them were furious with me. But others just had questions about what was going on. I tried to check my FB, but couldn’t see anything they were saying because my sister and mother both blocked me on their social media.

But my girlfriend could still see everything because they kept their profiles set to open. We screenshotted everything and then printed some of it out.

Both of their profiles had posts that called me a greedy heartless jerk who scammed his way into getting the house that was meant to be my sister’s inheritance right out from under her by paying off the lawyer who handled dad’s will. Which is a complete and utter lie and they both know it.

I called my lawyer, who was also my father’s lawyer and a trusted family friend, and gave him copies of all the screenshots from FB and the video my girlfriend had recorded the day my mother demanded my house.

He wanted to just write a formal C&D. But I wanted to take it further than that. And he sent them a letter I told him to write via express mail that had to be signed for.

So I know they got it. My mother called me in an absolute fury the same day the letter was delivered. I told her that if she and my sister didn’t redact all of the untrue social media posts they made about me and tell the absolute truth, I’d send all of the information I have to the whole family, her boss, and upload the videos we’d recorded of her online.

And then I’d sue her on top of it.

She called me unreasonable, and that she just did what she did for my sister’s sake. And then went into a full-blown lecture reiterating her belief that my sister still needs my house more than me.

I bluntly stated I didn’t care what she thought. And if she didn’t redact everything and tell the truth I’d make sure her career would be over.

She begrudgingly said “FINE! You win!

Have it your way and keep the house”! before hanging up the phone. That very evening all of the lying posts disappeared from both their profiles, I was unblocked, and my mother gave me and everyone else a half-hearted apology claiming she was too impulsive with everything she said because she thought my sister needed my house more than me because she’s broke and pregnant.

But the house was rightfully mine according to my father’s will, and she knew that even before my father passed. So she had no right to try and claim it. As for my sister, she also apologized, but more or less just parroted everything our mother said while claiming she just went along with her ideas.

And then she blamed what she did all on our mother and her pregnancy hormones.

The replies poured in for some time on both my mother and sister’s profiles. Many were furious with them for trying to take my house.

I got a lot of “sorry” and “my bad” messages from those who’d previously believed her. But all it really did was show me who was more on her side to begin with since they all believed her nonsense so quickly.

They were mostly people from her side of the family anyway. No one on my father’s side believed her at all. And openly said so. My sister and her boyfriend ended up moving in with our mother to save money.

But she put them in the basement to keep her Air B&B running. And my sister started crying on social media that she can’t live upstairs.

I’m pretty sure the two of them were fighting with each other because all my sister did after that is complain online, and my mother barely posted anything on her social media anymore because of the previous stunt she’d tried.

Kragle-Tom

84. A First Class, One Way Ticket Back To The Gate

I’m an airline captain, and I was commuting to work. I purchased a full-fare first-class ticket to get there. I lived in Atlanta at the time, but was domiciled in Houston and commuted.

Normally, I could get a jump seat in the cockpit, but on this auspicious day, that was already taken. Pass riding wasn’t an option because there were no seats in coach and only one in first.

See, pass riders can be bumped for fare-paying passengers. And I needed to get to work, so I plunked down my credit card and bought the last seat in first. Boarding has occurred and I am peacefully in my seat, waiting for pushback.

That’s when this woman comes up and says to me: “You are sitting in my seat. You’ll need to move right now”.

Just to be nice, I double-checked my boarding pass and replied:

“Nope. This is my seat. Not going to happen. Sorry”. She replied: “You’re an employee. You’re sitting in my seat. Move now”. Me: “May I see your boarding pass? Clearly there’s been some mistake”. She said: “You may not see my boarding pass.

I showed that when I boarded. I’ve upgraded to first class. Now move”.

That’s when I decided I’d had enough. She said: “You’ll need to resolve this with the flight crew.

I’m a passenger”. She stomps off, resembling an irritated Dolores Umbridge and returns with a flight attendant, who says: “Good morning Captain! May I see your boarding pass”? I show her my pass and she tells the awful lady “Ma’am that’s his seat. He paid for it”.

Her reply was infuriating.

She said: “Well, then throw him off dear. I’ve upgraded to first-class and that is now my seat”. The flight attendant asked to see her boarding pass. The lady replied: “You will not! I showed it when I boarded.

I’ve upgraded to first-class”. The attendant says, “How did you upgrade to First Class”? The lady replied, “I upgraded to first class. I’m more important than an employee. Now get him out of my seat”.

Someone had called the cockpit and now the captain had left the flight deck to deal with her.

He knew exactly what to say. He told her: “Ma’am, I’m the captain of this flight. I’ve just spoken with the gate agent. We certainly apologize for this awkward situation. The agent has corrected your paperwork, and has a voucher for future travel for you as well.

Please go fetch your new boarding pass and your voucher and we’ll be on our way”.

She thought she’d won—but she was so wrong. She departed up the jetway, a triumphant smile on her face.

That’s when the captain turned the attendant told her to prepare the doors for departure. The doors close. The captain returns to the cockpit and as we push back from the gate I can see the entitled woman pounding on the glass next to jetway.

It was a nice ride to Houston. The coffee was wonderful.

snarfleberry

85. Susan Steals Spanakopita And Succumbs To Shame

I used to work with this super-entitled woman once upon a time. Her name was Susan. Susan liked to get to the office way earlier than everyone else, but I didn’t find out why that was until I’d worked there for a few months. She was the sort who liked to help herself to the snacks people had stashed in the communal fridge.

She’d also take individual sodas from the case my cubicle neighbor kept under her desk, and had a real thing for stealing either my chocolate or my good granola bars, depending on what I had stashed, right out of my desk drawer.

But she got her comeuppance one year at the office Christmas potluck. We had a lady who did Greek cooking and was magnificent at it.

This particular year, she’d brought in an enormous tray of mini spanakopita, the spinach and feta cheese in phyllo dough. Each roughly the size of an Oreo cookie.

Literally hundreds of these little beauties, stacked two high on the tray, just waiting to be devoured. And then along came Susan, with the Tupperware of Holding.

I kid you not, she scooped fully 1/4 of the contents of that tray into her Tupperware, looking around furtively to make sure no one would try to stop her.

She brushed the phyllo crumbs from her fingers, popped the seal on her massive Tupperware, and turned smugly away from the buffet table…and every single person in the office was glaring at her, fit to set her permanently ablaze.

Our office manager was particularly salty, because she, dear reader, was the Greek chef who had provided these delicious morsels. She spoke, and it was with the voice of a vengeful Goddess. “SUSAN, WHAT IN THE HECK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING”?! Crickets.

  And then, the foot-tapping began. Tap. Tap. Tap. And the hand on the hip.

And finally, the FINGER OF DOOM did aim at Susan, Thief of Treats, Hoarder of Spanakopita. And Susan did meekly open her Tupperware, and return unto the tray roughly 90% of the ‘pita.

Thus was the Office Manager appeased, and thus was Susan forever sneak-shamed.

86. El Brusco Despertar

I was traveling with my kiddo from the states to my home country, which takes around eight hours with connections, so I booked first-class seats for both of us.

However, in this airline, ours was the last group to be called to board. When we boarded it turned out a Karen around 40-ish and her kid were in our seats, I politely told her so, but she ignored me.

As we were the last to board, I had to call the flight attendant and let her know that, because we were soon to take off. She came and Karen just repeated in Spanish “lo siento no entiendo”, over and over again (i.

e. “I’m sorry I don’t understand” in English) and the flight attendant felt frustrated as she explained the situation to her in Spanish.

It was obvious Spanish wasn’t her first language and yet Karen pretended she didn’t understand.

But here comes the funny part, I am a Spanish speaker, so I grinned and told her in Spanish that she was in our seats and had to move to their seats. She then got red-faced and told me how she is a single mother and how I should respect my elders (all in Spanish of course).

She told me how I should go with my brother (actually my son) to the regular seats because she deserved to have the first-class ones. I told her she was not my elder, I’m 27 and she was 40-ish, and I don’t care about her being a single mother, she could pay for them as I did being a single parent as well.

Anyway, Karen had the pleasure to have me as her translator telling her to go back to their seats or they would be escorted out of the plane.

In the end, she went back to their seats and told me in English how my kind have ruined the states.

I just laughed at them and told her to enjoy their seats.

alex_moreno794

87. The Karen Is Coming From Inside The House

This story is about my mother. Yes, she is a mega Karen and unfortunately, I’ve had to put up with her most of my life.

This happened when I was a teenager, around 15. We went out for dinner at a small local restaurant that did all-you-can-eat buffets. I should mention that my mother has long, thick and curly hair and she never ties it up.

This is important for later.

We got our dinner and sat down to eat and all was going well. I was surprised at how well my mum was doing. By this point, she usually should have found something to complain about.

And then it happened. She looked down at her plate and said: “Look at this, there’s a hair in my food”! Me: “Mum, that’s YOUR hair”. My mom: “AH, NO. That’s not MY hair”!

The way she was talking was obviously dramatized for effect and she was beginning to get louder and draw attention from the other diners.

She continued to cause a scene and get more irritating, drawing more attention to herself and inadvertently, me. I wanted to sink into my chair from embarrassment. Not long after she started her fake tantrum, the waitress came over to see what the problem was.

She said: “How’s it all going here? What seems to be the problem”? My mom said: “There is a hair in my food”! The waitress replied: “Um…. ok”? My mom, getting furious at the lack of care from the waitress, says:

“Well then what are you going to do about it? We deserve to have our meals for free. This is horrible customer service”. The waitress, with a smirk across her face, says: “I’m sorry you’re not satisfied with our food.

Would you like to speak to the chef”?

Mom, looking smug that she thought she won, replies: “Yes. I would”! I was confused at this point, not understanding why the waitress didn’t seem to care.

It soon became clear why. A few minutes later a man came out from the back of the store and walked right up to our table and my mum’s face went ghost white and her jaw dropped.

The chef was bald! Not balding, but so bald that you could see your reflection on his shiny scalp. He said: “Hi there, how are things this evening? What seems to be the problem”? My mom replied:

“Well…there’s a hair in my food”. The chef, smiling, said: “I’m sorry to hear that ma’am, but unless I’ve miraculously grown a full head of hair on my walk over to your table, you can see I am very much bald.

And as I am the only chef working tonight, that is clearly not my hair. Is that all for now? I need to get back to work”. 

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked back to the kitchen, but not before I mouthed “sorry” to him as he left. I knew better than to say anything to my mum after this but I had a smile on my face for the rest of the night.

fredzred

88. Picking The Wrong Side

Two nights ago, I was brutally assaulted in my own house by a friend I had been letting stay with me. I had to run to a neighbor’s house at 3 AM to call the authorities. When they came to arrest her, she was in my living room making videos and told the officers she hopes I perish in a fire. Initially, I planned to approach the prosecutor on Monday morning and ask that charges be dropped in lieu of court-ordered mental health treatment.

This woman is very mentally ill and has violently lashed out at others in the past. I speak from experience when I say incarceration helps no one. I had been speaking with a friend of hers regarding this, who was very heavily leaning on me to do just that.

His reasoning was that she did not need this on her record because it would ruin her life.

However, a friend sent me a screenshot of a post she had made while I was running to my neighbor’s.

It was seriously disturbing. She was claiming I was attacking her. She listed a link to Google maps of my address. I am a single mother. My children live here. They were not home at the time of the attack.

I wouldn’t have run for help and left them here.

I informed her friend that I would not only continue with charges stemming from the attack, but I would be taking the screenshot of that post to the authorities and requesting additional charges be levied against her, if possible. He then Googled my address, took a screenshot and said, “Anyone can Google your address.

She doesn’t deserve to have a that on her record for the rest of her life”.

I feel like anyone that physically assaults you, tries to stab you, then lists the address where your children sleep does, indeed, deserve it.

Who does this guy think he is?

PleaseLordDont

Entitled peopleShutterstock

89. A One-Sided Deal

My family owns a few cabins up in Michigan that we rent out throughout the year. We have one that is our main one, it’s on a lake perched on a hill so you can see it from far away.

My siblings and I all have kids now and are all in our 30s so someone is usually up there from April through November with maybe a few empty weekends here and there.

Our neighbors on the bottom of the hill suck, they are a couple from out west who ripped down the two old cottages on the land they bought and built a ugly modern looking home that would fit in a large city rather on a lake.

The bad thing about building such a large home is the lack of yard space and they love to cry to us about how their kids have no backyard, and if we could sell some of our yard to them it would be great.

Well, we love our yard, it’s big enough that we had two weddings there, can have a full family reunion with 100+ people and still have room to play cornhole or other yard games without being in the way.

So every time this family has asked to purchase a part of it we say no. We do have an old chicken wire fence between the properties and we have grass, whereas they have just forest floor around their home so it’s really easy to see where the two properties stop.

So just last weekend my dad got a call from one of our other neighbors that they saw the bad neighbor up on the hill walking around our cabin with a few other people she did not recognize, so my dad did what every homeowner would do and called the local authorities.

He is drinking buddies with a few of them during the warmer months so they were out to go check the place out really quick.

It turns out when they got there the bad neighbor was walking around with her friends trying to set up a kid’s outdoor winter park in the snow.

The officers asked if she had permission and she lied to their faces saying she was in the process of closing on the land and that she is ripping the cabin down to turn it into a small snow park for the area.

Well, the officers told her that she was trespassing, that they were called here by the owner who they were friends with. I guess bad neighbor got really quiet and started to try and walk away but was ticketed along with her friends for trespassing.

I guess they also laid into the ladies that if a kid got hurt while they were out here illegally they would be liable for anything.

Then he said he is recommending my family put up a restraining order if she is caught up there again.

This isn’t the first time she has been on our property without permission, we have caught her out on our dock and she has picked a few of our veggies from the summer garden, both of which are on the other side of the hill from her.

We are going up there once it gets warm enough to install more cameras as right now we only have ones above the doors and garages.

itsfish20

90. Karma Comes For The Evil Twin

Me and my twin brother Sebastian have never ever been close; in fact, he made life terrible growing up. My parents didn’t help by playing favorites, getting him better stuff on our birthday, only going to see films he liked at the cinema, and giving him extra money for housework despite us doing the same amount of work.

He would always put me down, belittle me, persecute me with his friends at school, break my stuff and his, then blame me. He was just a pain in general. Growing up the only people I knew to rely on was my older sister Jane, my cousin Kai and best friend Isaac who all knew what an awful person my brother was.

Anyway cut to when I was 17 and I had my first girlfriend, someone I loved very much.

We didn’t have go all the way cause she wanted to wait til her 18th birthday to lose her virginity. Or so I thought.

It turns out that she was having an affair with my brother behind my back for half the time we were together and only got caught when it was revealed she was pregnant. I was crushed, she knew how much I hated my brother and she saw some of the awful things he did to me but she still went and did that.

Cheating is bad enough but to do it with him of all people. I punched him in the face and broke his nose and made him lose a tooth, but according to my parents I’m the one in the wrong and now we have to help this girl who is carrying my brother’s child and have to help support them. My brother then said he had no intention of being a father and told my girlfriend to get an abortion.

She then ran out of town and I never saw her again. I don’t know if she had the baby. All I know was that she was gone and my folks were still praising my brother as the golden child.

I was still the black sheep and failure as usual. Another year goes by, and me and my brother still despise each other, but I started dating again. It was a long while but I found someone.

In fact, I found a boy I liked.

I’m bi and this new guy Daniel I had met at college caught my eye, he was deaf and I studied sign language out of boredom so we got talking and things just seemed to click. We date, fall in love, and I bring him to my friend Isaacs’s party to introduce him to friends and all feels great. At this point, the only one who knew I was bi was Isaac, but one day walking into a cinema holding my boyfriend’s hand I bump into my evil twin.

He points, laughs, and says some awful remarks. I tell him to shut up and I go see a movie with my arm around my boyfriend.

I dropped my boyfriend off at his place, then went home. I wasn’t prepared for how bad it was. I saw both my parents on the sofa, my mother crying about how on earth could she have given birth to someone so disgusting.

My father gets up to yell at me, spouting disturbing remarks and slurs. At this point I see my brother up the staircase with a smug grin on his face, he then comes down and says he’s uncomfortable with sharing a room with me and my folks kick me out there and then. With what little clothes and money I had, I went to Isaacs’s house and his family took me in.

That’s where I stayed for six months actually experiencing familial love and affection. I consider Isaacs’s mother and stepdad my own parents now. Eventually, me, Daniel, and Isaac all get a two-bedroom flat together and all is good for the time being.

So cut to December last year, me and my boyfriend (now husband) Daniel are married.

I have a brilliant job in design, have my own house by the sea and life has never been better.

However, I got a call from my sister that threw everything into chaos. My brother was in the hospital. I hadn’t thought about him that much over the nine-year period since I was kicked out, but being reminded of his existence brought up a lot of painful memories for me.

I was told by my sister that Sebastian wanted to see me and that it was urgent, so I went to the hospital he was in and met my sister outside the front entrance, I ask her what this is all about but she doesn’t tell me and that I need to ask my twin.

So I arrive at where my brother is at, and I’m shocked to find my parents at his side. Even more shocking, my folks actually look happy to see me!

It’s as if what they did to me hadn’t happened and Sebastian also looked really pleased to see me.

It’s safe to say something was off. Eventually, I ask what’s going on and why was I even here, to which my brother tells the family to leave us two alone. He looks so weak as before he used to intimidate me so much.

He told me that he was dying from kidney failure. He said it had been for the past few years, but now he didn’t have long left. I knew immediately where this was going.

He then said he always regretted that we never got along at which point I told him “no” he looked confused and asked what I was on about so I simply told him I wasn’t going to donate my kidney to save him.

He looked as if I had just slobbered in his food. He then went on about how bad the situation was and that he really was sorry for all the things we did to each other growing up.

Like excuse me? We did to each other? I told him that I just wanted a brother who cared and loved me, who wouldn’t try and break me every day for 18 years. He then called in our mum and dad and told them that I wasn’t going to give up my kidney, they then started to spout off that I owed them for my existence and that I have a duty to look after family.

I asked them where that duty was when they kicked me out of the house or where that duty was every time my brother gave me a black eye, or their duty was to look after their grandchild when Sebastian decided he didn’t want to be a father.

I said for all the things he’s done, from outing me, to having an affair with my girlfriend, to abandoning his child, that this was the universe’s (and my) way of finally giving back what he dished out. Finally saying it felt so good.

I then turned around and walked out of the room. I never saw Sebastian again. Not sure why they’d want a bi man’s kidney anyway. I walked past my sister who gave me a look that said “I understand”. After leaving the hospital I felt as if a great weight had been taken off my shoulders, I went home and never looked back, pleased with my decision.

Now last week I get a call from my sister calling to inform me that Sebastian had passed. She asked if I was okay and I said I was, that I didn’t really feel anything in all honesty.

She said she understood to a degree as Sebastian hadn’t been all that kind to her over the years either. I had my husband and Isaac there to support me.

The next day I was getting calls and texts from family members I hadn’t spoken to in years.

They all told me that I’m going to burn for being a bad son, being a bad brother, for being bi, and that me and my husband don’t deserve children. My hubby and I have been looking into adoption and surrogacy.

This makes me second-guess my choice of not giving my brother my kidney. Even after he’s gone, he’s making things harder for me.

I did wonder if I was a bad person and if I made the wrong decision but I knew that if I was in that position I would have been left for dead.

Screw him. His renal failure was from living an unhealthy lifestyle—he drinks and had a substance issue. It’s unlikely I’ll ever see my parents again and I’ll make sure my children will never meet them.

My revenge to them will be being a better parent than they ever were.

throwawaybitwin

91. Leaves A Bad Taste In Your Mouth

So almost a year ago, I was working as a hostess at a fine dining establishment. We had just opened our doors after Covid and I was excited to be back.

I was outside taking temps and asking the mandatory questions due to Covid restrictions. Then this couple walked up. I was asking them the questions and then took their temps.

The man, who was in his mid-30s, had a fever that was 104°. I thought maybe my thermometer was messing up since it was about 100° out. I tried again and then tried with a thermometer that was inside.

They all said the same. I try his wife’s and hers read 102°. I calmly told them that although I’m very sorry they can’t come in and I would recommend staying home.

The man requested I try one more time and I do.

I would like to say I was wearing a mask and they were not. Since they were still outside I wasn’t going to tell them yet. The temp comes out the same again and he starts screaming in my face.

Yellin how I’m a jerk and I’m stupid. As my manager starts coming out, he spits on my face. I had no idea just how bad it would all turn out.

I instantly freak out and run inside and my manager locks the door behind me.

I ended up going home the rest of the day. About four days later I felt terrible. I go and get tested for Covid. I had it. I stay home for the appropriate amount of time.

I had lost my taste and smell during that time. Once I go back to work my taste and smell start coming back a little.

But the thing is, nothing tasted right. Everything tasted like rotten meat.

It has taken a year to get the ability to eat food again. All I could eat was bell peppers. I lost 20 lbs. I had to go to specialists. I had to go thru a few surgeries because of all the things Covid did to my body.

I even now have a thyroid issue that is assumed to have been brought on by Covid. All due to the entitled jerks who couldn’t handle that I wouldn’t allow him in.

upward_and_onwards

92. None Of Her Business

My mom was in and out of the hospital when I was around 10-13 years old because of bipolar disorder.

By the time this all went down, when I was 15, my mom was doing better. She lived at home, and she was even working. So, In my final year of secondary school, one of my teachers began pulling me out of class in the middle of lessons and at first, she just wanted to chat about my grades, which were average.

Then these “chats” took a dark turn.

She started asking more and more intrusive questions about my mom and her illness and began to compare my mother’s illness to her mother, who apparently had suffered from the same thing and began telling me sob stories about her childhood.

She also began asking me uncomfortable questions about my home life. I didn’t say much, just sat there feeling very confused about it all.

This happened over the course of three months and eventually, I got really sick of her pulling me out of the classroom in the middle of lessons and I snapped.

I told her to stop pulling me out of classes and to leave me alone. I turn to leave and go back to class. She grabs me by the arm and tells me that if I continue to withhold information, she would have to call the CPS.

I told her to call them, they wouldn’t find anything and she’d be wasting their time. A few days later, I get called out of the classroom, not by her but by my principal, who takes me to her office where a CPS worker, my mom and my dad is waiting, I realized I already knew the woman.

She had been at our house sometimes while mom was ill.

The CPS worker, my parents, and I talked and she came to the conclusion that everything was fine but I broke down in tears because the whole situation had been really stressful.

My parents were furious. They demanded to know why this teacher thought it was okay to harass me about something that was none of her business. We never got a proper answer and the teacher refused to say anything.

She stared daggers at me though.

The CPS lady was angry about having her time taken by this stupid situation and demanded some type of action from the principal. The teacher was not allowed to be in a room alone with me anymore and under no circumstance to take me out of the classroom alone.

Eventually, she was moved to another class and later let go for harassment and assault of another student.

Se0nyte

93. The Meat Of The Matter

So I am in my second year of university, and I currently am rooming with three other people.

Dan, Max, and Olivia. We all share a living area, kitchen and of course a fridge, we each have a shelf space for our stuff and kinda share the rest of the fridge. Now in our group, I’m the only one that doesn’t have any dietary requirements, Dan is gluten intolerant, Olivia is vegan (by choice) and Max is mostly vegetarian because of a mixture of allergies and medical conditions. That’s where the problems began. 

Me and Max are also in the same major and are close. When we all first moved in Max noticed that some of his food kept getting moved to a different shelf, Olivia’s shelf. Max has really bad social anxiety and doesn’t do well with conflict so he asked me to ask Olivia about it. When I did she said she thought we had gotten the food for her because she’s vegan.

I explained that Max is vegetarian.

I just said he’s vegetarian because I didn’t think it was my place to tell people about his medical conditions. She apologized and moved his food back and seemed happy to have someone else that “understood”. For the next few weeks, everything was fine, she did get a bit pushy every now and then with Max, saying that meat is the hard part and how easy it would be to stop eating milk and eggs etc.

Yesterday we all decided to order take out, we ordered Chinese. There is a beef-based dish that not only can Max eat, but it’s also his favorite, so we got a portion for the group as well as one just for Max. we sat down and started eating and when Olivia saw Max eating the dish she went to get some, Max quickly stopped her and told her it had beef in it.

She sat there and blinked a few times before asking why he was eating it then. Max sheepishly replied that he can eat this dish. She started yelling that he can’t make exceptions to veganism and vegetarianism when he feels like it. Max explains that he’s vegetarian because of medical reasons. Olivia told him that he shouldn’t call himself a vegetarian then, quickly filled her plate and went to her room.

Today Olivia refused to talk to anyone and would leave the room if Max came in. Max was clearly upset, I asked Dan to take him out somewhere while I talked to Olivia, because I couldn’t promise she wouldn’t yell again. They left and I knocked on Olivia’s door and asked to talk, she let me in and I told her that the way she’s been treating Max is not okay.

She said she felt lied to, she thought she had someone who cared about the same things that she did.

I told her that it’s okay to feel that way but that’s not Max’s fault and what she’s doing is wrong, she yelled at me saying it was in fact Max’s fault for misappropriating the label vegetarian and started comparing it to being hate-crimed.

I shut that down right away.

She’s literally the only one in the group that doesn’t belong to a minority so this did tick me off. I left to join Dan and Max, who had gone to the arcade.

When we (me, Max and Dan) got back, we made a disturbing discovery. The place was a mess. Max’s stuff had been thrown into the living area, this also included some of his gaming equipment and medical stuff which had been damaged.

Any meat product had been opened and thrown in the trash, empty milk cartons in the sink, which had been full so I think she emptied them.

Her shelf in the fridge was empty and anything that was vegan friendly, so most of Max’s food but also some of Dan’s food, was also gone. There were two rooms on one side and two rooms on the other and she and Max’s rooms were next to each other.

We called our RA and she was really nice and calm (probably because Max was crying at this point), she said she would talk to Olivia, and would probably have her moved because this wasn’t appropriate. We literally did our food shop a few days ago so we don’t really have enough money to replace anything.

Adept_Yard

94. Don’t Get Keyed Up Over It

So me and my partner had just finished shopping and were leaning on the car having a smoke. This made me remember a story from a long time ago.

Basically, he was leaning against his car outside of a store finishing a smoke before he went in when some random woman walks up to him and says, “I don’t think the owner would appreciate you leaning on their car”.

He told this woman he owned the car but she tried to argue the fact that it was her car.

She even said: “It’s my car, get off of it”. He then pulled out the keys and unlocked the car and she just went silent and walked away.

DominoGirl3006

95. Whoops

My dad divorced his harpy of a second wife.

She was furious about not having her sugar daddy anymore, so she proceeded to buy all kinds of stuff, thinking she’d stick him with the credit card bill one last time. But there was just one problem with her plan:

She was not happy to hear she was the only one on the account. My dad had taken his name off their cards a few weeks ago.

rickaroo

96. Wi-Fi Rage

I have pretty bad hearing issues and wear hearing aids.

Normally when I fly, I leave them in for the safety check, then pull them and promptly check out. I was on my way back from work-related travel and had the cheapest most awful seat on the plane.

About 30 minutes into the flight, this 20-year-old guy starts having an EPIC meltdown.

Apparently, the Wi-Fi on the plane is too slow for him and he starts pounding and banging the seat in front of him.

He then hits my tray with his knee, knocking my hearing aids up and away. I try to get up to catch them and he hits me right in the face. I’m a 5’3″ tall, 100 lb girl, and this guy is like six feet tall and pretty big. He sent me hard to the floor.

I was told that after that, someone restrained him, the plane turned back around, and he was escorted off the plane. The attendants were super nice, and the other passengers helped me find my hearing aids.

I still don’t know what happened entirely, but they let me lay down across two first-class seats with an ice pack over my face for most of the cross-country flight.

Turinggirl

97. Get The Message, Stephanie

This story actually begins two years ago.

I work at a university doing somewhat specialized technical and project support type stuff for a large department. I’ve got this co-worker we’ll call Stephanie. Stephanie is one of those people that demands everything now because she’s Very Important. A couple of years ago I ran afoul of Stephanie because I was out of the office on leave—that had been approved by my supervisor and the department, mind you.

I was out for two weeks taking care of my mom after she had surgery due to cancer—which I was very open about because I didn’t want to deal with people asking how I enjoyed my vacation. There’s no way Stephanie didn’t know why I was out.

She went to my office and was told I wasn’t in, and she was upset because I needed to help her now. So she called my personal cellphone. We have a list of people’s personal cellphones in case of emergencies like, y’know, a campus shooter, not “I need something done”.

And she called again. And again. And again. Finally, I picked up and she ripped me a new one because I needed to answer her Very Important Question. I told her I was out on leave to care for my mom and her response was something to the effect of “It’s not my problem your mom’s sick.

I need this taken care of now and you’re holding things up. I’m going to report you for never being at work”.

Never mind the fact that other people could have helped her.

Or the fact that this was the first time I used any leave in ages. And she did, in fact, report me to the Dean to whom I sent my approved leave forms and my call log showing she’d called me I believe ten times in a row.

Stephanie got a tiny punishment for that incident.

Fast forward to now. I’m leaving for my dream job…hurray! I sent an email out to the department mailing lists saying “Hey, I’m going, it’s been a pleasure”. The thing is they’re not sure they’re going to fill my role in an effort to save money, which people are pretty upset about because I support a lot of things.

However, because most of my coworkers are logical and awesome people that anger is directed at the college and not at me.

Stephanie is not logical. So, I get a Facebook Messenger message from Stephanie, who I’m not FB friends with.

I accepted the message out of morbid curiosity mostly. And the entitlement continues folks. I’m selfish for leaving my job because of all the department has done for me. So apparently I owe it to them to stay or something—haha what?

I especially like that her spelling degrades as the messages go on.

I’m sure she was just on mobile or something but I’d like to imagine she worked herself into such a rage that she couldn’t type. I won’t miss Stephanie.

AbortRetryImplode

98. Fences Don’t Always Make Good Neighbors

While retrieving my mail shortly after moving into my new home, there was a flyer attached to the mailbox post.

I read the flyer with interest, finding out that it was from the neighbor who purchased the model home at the entrance of our subdivision. The flyer was addressed to all members of the Homeowners Association.

It essentially informed us that the HOA was using our HOA dues to sue him for not removing a fence from his front yard. The builder erected the chestnut rail fence around the front yard of the model home when it was built and the purchaser never thought anything about it.

A contingent of HOA officers notified him that he had 24 hours to remove the fence or face a lawsuit.

Having already faced the wrath of the HOA myself, I stopped at his home to talk with him.

After ascertaining the preceding information, I informed him that anything existing on the closing date of the real estate transfer, was grandfathered in and therefore, the fence was fair. I then proceeded to show this to him in the covenants.

At the time, I was an editor with the local newspaper and asked if he minded my writing an article about this incident in the newspaper. He readily agreed and I went off to discuss it with the managing editor.

Between us, we decided to run a series of articles about HOAs and the “little tyrants who run them”, highlighting this incident.

The series ran seven weeks on the editorial page, during which time, the court case was held and the homeowner won with the HOA having to pay his lawyer’s fees. He told me that had they asked, he would have removed the fence with no problem, but he was a retired colonel in the US Army and was not used to being ordered to do things.

Thirty-six years later, the fence is still there.

MapReston

99. Check Out This Piece Of Work

This happened a couple of times over many years when I was a cashier. Every time, I would scan her 1,000 items and hit total, then she decides to start digging in her purse to find her checkbook.

After a few minutes, she finds it, and then starts to slowly fill it out. Of course, a line has built and people looked like their life was slowly draining out of them. I felt it too.

I ran the check through the register (it scanned it or whatever) then put it in the bottom of the cash drawer. I hand her the receipt then she held her hand back out. I am not entirely sure why, because I wanted her to go, not give me a high five.

She just went ahem at me and said “Where is my check”? I looked at her confused, “In the drawer, where I just put it after the transaction”.

“I want my check back,” she yelled.

“Ma’am we have to keep the check in to deposit in the bank, in case there are any transaction errors”. She was shaking her head no the entire time, “No, I have to get it back, otherwise somebody could steal my identity”. I tried to assure her that from the register we put it in the safe at night, then in the morning, and the armed guard takes it to the bank for deposit.

She would not accept it and said that if she could not get it back then she would return her purchase and get it back to buy things elsewhere. This must have been a power play for her, but she messed up. You see I was on my last week at that job.

I asked for her receipt, which I got, pulled up her transaction, and hit void previous transaction.

I grabbed her check, the receipt, and the void receipt, then handed it to her, “There, I have voided the transaction and returned your check.

Good luck at the next store”. I then started removing her items from the bags and making a stack beside me on the floor. She looked dumbfounded, jaw dropped. “NO, I purchased those, those are mine”.

I kindly, with the most customer service voice I could muster replied, “You told me that if you could not have your check back, you would buy things elsewhere, and I had already told you we were not able to give it back, so I voided your purchase and now you have your check back.

” I looked at the next person in line, “I can help the next person”.

That beautiful customer stepped forward, right next to the lady, and started a conversation about some cereal she bought. By that time the manager had come over, and the lady began yelling at him.

He ended up ringing her items back up in the aisle next to mine and she paid by check but was again unable to keep the check. I could hear it all well, in fact, half the aisle was watching their show of an interaction.

The BEST part was when she was demanding her check back (again) he asked if she wanted him to void it out so she could go elsewhere. She nearly exploded, ripped the receipt out of his hand, threw the bags in her cart, and breaking things by the sound, and stormed out yelling.

The cherry on top was that on her way out she turned back to yell more at us and ran into the door frame with her cart.

Laughter erupted from a few kids nearby. What a great day.

luridfox

100. Telling On Yourself

I work IT at a small non-profit. We have a kitchen/ staff room and supply free coffee, tea, milk, sugar etc. During the pandemic all staff were working from home but, for the past few weeks, some staff have been coming back gradually (most for just 1-2 days a week) including myself… and, unfortunately, Karen. Now Karen and I have had many run-ins over the years and suffice to say we don’t get along.

It’s mostly because I can’t tolerate her bad behavior. A week or so after being back, Karen sends a condescending email to the office manager, CC’ing all staff. In which she says that, while she accepts that the office kitchen had not been stocked while everyone was on lockdown, she is appalled that there is no bread, bagels, yogurts, etc.

for staff that have returned.

The office manager replies, adding CC’ing all staff: “Karen, As a courtesy to staff, we provide free coffee, tea, milk, and sugar, all of which have been stocked. We have never proved free bread, bagels, yogurts, or other food.

However, staff do keep personal food items in the refrigerator”. Yup, she outed herself as the office food thief.

JohnDodger

101. Bad Samaritan

So about 10 months ago I was there when this guy collapsed outside a strip mall store.

He had a medical alert bracelet on about a heart condition. The paramedics get called and they arrive QUICKLY. They showed up in a four-door pickup with bed shell, all fire engine red, flashing lights and sirens, fire department and paramedics all over the truck.

They jump out and start hooking this guy up to a blood pressure cuff, sticking the heart monitor pads to him, etc. I’ll never forget what happened next. Karen rolls up behind the paramedics’ truck and starts screaming the truck cut her off at the intersection…once again, they had lights and sirens on. Then she demands the paramedic LOOK AT HER as she melts down while he is starting CPR on the victim!

The paramedic is ignoring her entirely, but has to get something from the truck, she blocks his way and gets moved aside, as he goes to the truck. But Karen wasn’t done yet. This is where she pulls out pepper spray and hoses the standing paramedic directly in the face.

She’s STILL not done, and she sprays the second paramedic on the ground.

Then, just for the trifecta, she hoses down the heart attack victim—while screaming he is too young to have a heart attack!. I took it as my cue to remove her pepper spray, and hold onto her (with others) until the authorities arrive. Still, others are trying to help with CPR while some try to help the paramedics wash out their eyes.

Amidst all the chaos, the authorities arrive, Karen goes immediately into handcuffs, and then attempts to bite/kick the officer, which results in getting hogtied and her shirt pulled over her face. And then, she somehow made it worse.

As they arrest her she starts shouting, “Do you know who I am”? Ultimately, she got what she deserved.

They charged her with two counts of aggravated assault (with a weapon) on paramedics, two counts of assault on the officers, one count of aggravated assault (with a weapon) on the heart attack victim (who survived), and resisting arrest.

She also is being sued by the heart attack victim for $10 million, which she apparently has…

Her trial is coming up. I bought a new suit for it and I will be there to testify with bells on!

Since the entire event is on video from two cameras (and who knows how many cell phones) it will be interesting to see what her high-powered lawyers are going to cook up, but ultimately I hope she will be convicted. She’s facing a possible 65 years, but practically will only get about 10 maximum, if any prison time.

But she’s already started to pay the price for her terrible behavior. I later found out that her husband is a bank vice president and refused to make her bail.

It took her 13 days to get her family to bail her out!

JeepHammer

102. Sharing Isn’t Caring

Okay, so, this happened a few years ago but I remember it like it was yesterday and to be honest, still can’t understand what my sister was thinking.

A little backstory: My sister and I had to share EVERYTHING as kids. Not to mention I was forced to be her and our younger brother’s “second mother”, but that’s a story for another time. For some of my childhood, I was happy to share things with my sister.

Sweets, snacks, toys—the normal kid things. There are four years between us, I’m the oldest and as you can probably guess, when I reached my teen years I wanted my own things and to spend time alone.

Nope. She wanted me to do everything with her. I could barely spend ten minutes in the bathroom before she would start banging on the door.

Unfortunately, when I was around 15, my siblings and I were taken into foster care.

We were separated from our brother which was difficult for both of us and for a while I didn’t mind my sister wanting to spend all her time with me. Shortly after my 16th birthday I wanted to have my own space and things that are, well, mine.

She would argue with me over not sharing MY stuff and of course, typical sibling fights and yelling happened almost every other day. We sort of grew out of our sibling squabbles over the years but she kinda developed a “the-world-owes-me” attitude which drove me crazy.

I did my best to hold in my frustrations but I’m human and sometimes…I kinda snapped. 

A couple of years after my daughter was born, my sister and I weren’t really talking much because of her selfish attitude towards me spending most of my time and income on my daughter. During one of the times we were on good terms, she was over for the weekend and everything was okay.

Until a conversation lead to her telling me she was going to take my daughter for a week because she wanted to spend time with her because it was “her turn”.

I said, “Not gonna happen.

She is MY daughter, not a doll or pet we share”. She gets mad and starts yelling. I told her to leave and she argues how “she had parental rights” and “social services will force me to allow her to take my daughter whenever she wants”.

I laughed, told her to get out and don’t come back. Honestly, I don’t know if she seriously thought that it was her right to have my daughter.

blue_eyed_mess

Sources: 1, 2, 3

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