We’re not condoning illegal activity, but sometimes revenge is the only way to get your point across.
The sweetest revenge is often the acts that are the most petty – because who doesn’t love a good #PettyQueen? We know we do. Take a look below, you may just love ’em too!
I lived in an apartment with a roommate. We had neighbors who would throw crazy parties pretty frequently, oftentimes during the week.
One day, my roommate who had to be awake early got fed up and decided to pee on a metal pizza pan and stick it in the freezer. After a crazy party, he pulled the pan out, and flipped it upside down, giving him a frozen disc of pee.
He then slid that disc under their door where it would melt on their fully carpeted entryway. We woke up to them shouting at the people who crashed there, demanding to know who peed on the floor and what the heck was wrong with them.
The next story will indeed prove that you are what you eat.
A Happy Wife
My uncle was a prominent, busy doctor. My aunt, a stay-at-home mother of two. My uncle was very rigid and authoritative and had to have things done a certain way.
Breakfast at a specific time every morning, his clothes folded or hung in a particular way, a specific drink waiting for him upon his return home, and a specific dinner at a given time every night, based on a rotating menu.
Regardless, it was meatloaf night, and after years of no complaints, my uncle erupts, screaming at my aunt that her meatloaf is garbage, how could she not be able to cook something so simple and literally fires his full dinner plate across the room.
My aunt, his submissive, quiet, loyal servant over their then twenty or so years of marriage, simply apologizes and cleans up, promising to improve her recipe.
It was only after my uncle passed on—they were married for 52 years—that she admitted to my mother that she’d fed him meatloaf made solely of Alpo (wet, canned dog food) for the past 30 years with nary a complaint.
The person in the next story would learn the hard way that you shouldn’t take things that do not belong to you.
What’s Mine Is Not Yours
I don’t mind when my roommates borrow my stuff. All I ask is that they replace what they take. Unfortunately, my current roommate doesn’t seem to get this.
I wanted to wash my clothes but only found an empty box. I don’t buy fancy stuff and I don’t care about brands. After using the last of my powder a week earlier, she could literally have bought the cheapest powder in the world and I would have been fine. I just snapped.
I bought a new box of washing powder, some Dylon machine dye, mixed it with a bit of the washing powder, and dumped it into the old box.
I took my new box of washing powder to my room and waited. A week later, I came home from work and saw her laundry hanging outside, all with a mysterious pink color.
She demanded to know what I had done. I told her I was going to dye my own clothes, then asked her why she had used it when it had clearly been in a box with my name on it.
I don’t think she believed me, but she finally got the message.
This next one is a satisfying revenge story for someone who definitely deserved it.
This Lot Ain’t Big Enough for the Two of Us
I went to Costco in need of dog food. No parking spots, until I spot one at the end of the lot. I am about to turn into the parking spot when a lady RUNS OVER THE CURB and almost hits me to take the spot. Thankfully, I tapped my brakes in time or she would have taken off my bumper.
I look up and she is shaking her head and wagging her finger in a “no” motion at me. What the heck? I was like okay, I’ll just wait for her to back up since I’m obviously turning into the spot.
She doesn’t. My girlfriend is with me and was so angry that the lady wasn’t budging. So I gave her my Costco card and just sat in the aisle in a face-off with this lady.
My girlfriend goes inside and gets the dog food. She then pushes the cart into the spot we were waiting for and hops in the car.
The look on the woman’s face was enough to give me satisfaction for a week. She had to get out and move the cart so she could park once I reversed through the entire aisle. Worth it.
The woman in the next story just couldn’t wait her turn.
All the Time in the World
I was in line at a grocery store cashing out a 12-pack of drinks. A woman walked toward me and took her place in line, however instead of standing behind me in line, she decided to stand right beside me.
The woman in front of me finishes her transaction and what do you know, the lady beside me actually pushes past me and tries to cut me.
Honestly, in my head, I was about to just let her go because she clearly was in a much bigger rush than I was, and I didn’t mind. No big deal to me.
However, the awesome cashier (who has cashed me out frequently) says to her “Uh, I’m sorry but she was waiting here before you.” The lady scoffs and steps aside.
With a huge smile on my face, I make sure to have a nice and lengthy “How’s your day?” “Yeah thank god, it’s Friday!” “Did you do anything fun on Halloween!?” chat with the cashier.
She knew, I knew. The lady knew. The whole time I felt the lady in a rush’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head, and I was just loving every minute of it.
The person in the next story was too selfish to share spaces with other people.
I was trying to find a parking spot at my university. The lot was notoriously crowded but my campus didn’t have a lot of options. While searching, I saw a Corvette taking up FOUR prime spots near the front of the lot.
After about 10 minutes of waiting and looking for a spot, one opened up toward the back of the lot finally.
Furious at the nerve of the Corvette driver being so inconsiderate, I then wrote a note saying, “Sorry I hit your car, you probably won’t even notice the damage,” and left it on their windshield.
When I got out of class and headed back to my car, I saw a very stereotypical college-aged Corvette owner frantically searching their vehicle while yelling into their phone.
I don’t know who they were talking to, but I feel bad for them having to deal with this person.
The person in the next story got a taste of her own medicine.
My brother, sister, and I took a vacation to California. A few nights into the trip, we went to a basketball game in Sacramento.
I took my jacket off and placed it on my seat. Knowing I was forgetful, I asked my sister to remind me about it, to which she remarked, “I’m not your mother.” We were having a very nice trip to this point and I had no clue that kind of reaction was coming.
A few nights later we had gone out to eat, and she was the first one to walk away from the table, leaving her purse behind. I did what any responsible older brother would do and quickly snatched it up.
We had walked about 7-8 blocks away from the restaurant, I made some remark about how weird someone else’s purse looked and she immediately realized what she had forgotten, and began running back towards the restaurant.
I filled my brother in and we walked back to the restaurant where my sister was freaking out because her purse wasn’t there.
I simply held up her purse, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, “I’m not your mother.” It was gloriously cathartic.
The guy in the next story was caught red-handed doing something unbelievable.
Friends Like These
I had a “friend” named Jimi who I played music with. I had to go out of state for several weeks for work and during that time my only roommate moved out with the help of Jimi (I owned the house by the way).
Jimi, knowing that nobody was there for another week or so decided to let himself in through the dog door and rummage through everything in my room. Thank god for my Nest Cam.
He was in my room for about 10 minutes going through every drawer. Left and came back a few minutes later to do a final sweep.
The last image on the camera was him noticing the camera and a literal jaw drop before he unplugged it. As revenge, I took the video, posted it to Facebook, and tagged all of our mutual friends.
Got a call five minutes later with the most frantic apology and him begging me to take down the post. I no longer talk to Jimi.
The next story is about someone not knowing about basic workplace etiquette.
My co-worker sometimes throws out her lunch in the garbage can at my desk instead of her own, because she claims she can’t stand the smell of old ketchup that’s been sitting out for a couple of hours.
I’ve asked her several times to stop, but she will then just wait until I get up to go to the bathroom and do it, and hide my garbage can under my desk so she thinks I won’t see it.
Every time she does it, I wait until she goes to the bathroom, take out the little plastic container that she had ketchup in, and put it in the back of her bottom desk drawer.
There are six in there now, and the oldest is over a month old. So far, she hasn’t noticed the smell. Going to keep doing it and see how long it takes her to notice.
The landlady in the next story will prove that spite will get you nowhere.
I saved up enough money to move from my apartment and buy a house. I was really excited and told my favorite neighbor about it. That’s when I made a disturbing discovery.
He told me not to even bother trying to get my security deposit back because the landlord never returned security deposits.
I turned in my notice. The landlord didn’t even bother to do a final walk-through. After 30 days, I emailed her and asked about my deposit. No response.
I filed a small claims court case for the deposit. Her strategy was to hire a lawyer and take it to the next higher court. Most people quit after she does but I’m not most people.
I double-checked with the court to make sure I could represent myself. I then sent a certified letter to her attorney asking for a full disclosure of the evidence being presented.
A week later, I received a call from the lawyer, asking what I wanted in order to avoid court. So I let my neighbor know how to get his deposit back when he was ready to move. He let the other tenants know how to get their deposits back, too.
The next story teaches you a lesson in consideration for your fellow man.
Laundry Room Wars
I had an incident in my university dorm laundry room. We had an unwritten rule in the dorm laundry room: if you don’t attend to your laundry, someone will pull it out and throw it on the table (wet or dry).
I always set an alarm to be there when it’s done. I wash my clothes, throw them in the dryer, and set my timer.
Soon after, my watch goes off and I walk back to the laundry room only to find my dryer load completely wet and on the table. Oh heck no! Someone pulled my stuff from the dryer, only to dump it out and dry their stuff for free.
Well, I had more quarters, so I could dry my stuff just fine. Actually, I had enough quarters for my anonymous friend too.
So I grab their clothes and throw them in an open washing machine with six of my spare quarters. Then dropped another quarter in for a heavy cycle. It takes over an hour and a half to complete.
I’m glad I’ve outgrown that kind of thing, but I look back with some pleasure at that little guy standing up to some random inconsiderate person.
The next story proves that a little kindness towards others could later help you get out of sticky situation.
We Don’t Know You
We live in an apartment block, and occasionally have new people move in and out. We encountered a new resident, a short red-haired lady.
My boyfriend greeted her with a simple, “Hello.” He also tried to say “welcome,” but she cut him off with, “Shut up, I don’t know you.” Okay, not the sociable type, neither are we, let’s not get friendly then!
Today when returning from grocery shopping, we found her trying to pick the lock with what looks like a piece of a paperclip because you know, that’s going to work.
She’s apparently been at it a while because before we could open the door with our key, a patrol car stopped and an officer called out to her. We stopped to watch because, well, it was happening.
The officer asked her why she was breaking in. She responded that she lived here. She then turned to us and said, “They know me.”
My boyfriend smiled and said, “I don’t know you.” We entered the building after the officer asked us to confirm, and my boyfriend repeated, “We don’t know her.” Can’t wait to have more contact with her.
The woman in the next story will be taught a lesson because of her rudeness.
Under the Bus
I was at a subway station. As I went up the escalators, this lady nudged me out of the way just as I got onto the steps, and made me trip over and fumble my bag.
As we made our way to the exit and I got up to the door frame, she nudged past me again. She went through the exit and stood there looking at me.
There’s a bus terminal that connects to the subway on the street level, and we ended up waiting at the same stop. She was the first in line, and I was right behind her.
When the bus finally arrived, she was fumbling through her purse looking for her bus card.
As she was searching for her card, she ended up dropping it right at the tip of my boot. I decided to lightly slide her card underneath the bus with my foot.
Eventually, she realized that she might have dropped her card, so she looked around for it. She began getting increasingly worried. I nudged past her, gave her a stare, and made my way onto the bus. I watched her as I enjoyed the rest of my commute home.
The people in the next story will learn a lesson in courtesy for their fellow neighbors.
I had a neighbor that had a dog that, I kid you not, barked from about 7 pm until 5 am NON-STOP. They worked nights, I believe, and they kept it outside.
I knocked numerous times, and they only said: “Dogs bark, what do you expect?” Their house was directly behind mine; we shared a divided wall. So I recorded their dog for a full day.
The minute they brought him in, and I felt like they were sleeping, I popped my phone into the dock and played it on my stereo full blast facing their yard at 9 am.
They came over raving mad to my wall by about 12 noon, asking me to shut my dog up. I said “It’s your dog. I recorded him since you miss out on what dogs do. I’m just playing the radio at normal allowable city time, and I will do this every day.”
They started bringing the dog in at night after that.
The person in the next story will learn that it’s not always better to have an early start at work.
The Early Bird Doesn’t Always Catch the Worm
I work flexible hours. We start from 8 am to 9:30 am. I’m always in at 8:15 am. If there’s work urgently in the morning, my supervisor gives it to me to complete.
I came into the office at my usual time and one of my colleagues was working on an urgent task given to him at 8 am.
He had to pause the task so my supervisor told me to complete it. I couldn’t have breakfast because of how urgent this task was.
I was still working on it and he asked, “how are you going with the task?” I explained that I’m still working on it and that I found a few mistakes.
He says, “Nope. Not my responsibility anymore” and walks off. I was livid.
I finished work at 5:30 pm that day. Before I left, my supervisor told me that she got a HUGE workload given to her and that she will need to give it to someone urgently in the morning.
I knew that my colleague would be in the office at 8 am again. Guess who’s walking into the office at 9:15 am with a cup of fresh coffee and breakfast?
The person in the next story would take sweet revenge on the resident school mean girl.
In grade one, this girl, let’s call her Mary, uninvited me to her birthday party so she could invite someone else.
It hurt me. So for the next ten years, Mary and I end up going to the same schools.
In elementary and middle school she would torment me and anyone not in the “in” crowd but would get away with it because her dad was a teacher.
A few years later, in grade 9, I was part of my middle school’s yearbook class, where we got to design and create the yearbook from photos taken at school events.
One of the pages that we needed to create was a talent show page. Mary participated in the talent show by singing. I saw an opportunity.
I browsed through the photos of Mary singing at the talent show and found the most unflattering one.
I blew that photo up and placed it in the middle of the page and published the yearbook. I’m 21 now and I still think back to that glorious moment and pat myself on the back.
I bought a copy of that yearbook so I will always have that revenge as a treasured memory.
The person in the next story got what he deserved for being a longtime bully.
Do I Know You?
I’m a 20-year-old girl, and I’ve been teased all my life. I go to university in the same city I grew up in, so there’s a high chance of me coming across people who hurt or tormented me.
I was in the pharmacy when someone shouted something at me. I pretended to not hear. They ended up getting frustrated and tugging on my arm. I twisted around and immediately recognized who it was—a guy who had teased me for over ten years.
So rather than get angry, I thought I would mess with him and see what happens. Him: Hi, heard you were around here. Me: I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are, do I know you from somewhere? Immediately he deflated.
It was glorious to see, and I had to stop myself from smiling. Him: It’s me, [his name], from school.
Me: I’m really sorry, but I don’t know you. Did we go swimming together perhaps? Him: …..no, I don’t think so. Me: I’m really sorry but I just don’t know who you are. I then went on my phone and just blocked him out of everything we could possibly be connected on.
The server in the next story got sweet revenge by handling a strange situation the only way she knew how.
Throwing Her Toys Out of the Crib
I’m a server at Denny’s. A grown woman comes in with her two little kids and asks for a booth. I cleaned one and sat her down.
She then points at a booth across the restaurant and says she wants that one instead. I moved her. Then seat someone else at the booth she was in originally.
Not two minutes later she comes up to me and asks for the other booth back because “I was there first and it’s nicer.” I tell her I can’t make other customers move and she can keep the one she’s in now or wait until a new one opens. She then says, “No, I want that one.”
I told her that I couldn’t do that.” She asks for the manager. I get him and he tells her exactly what I said.
She sits down, crosses her arm and pouts like a child. I proceeded to walk to her table with a huge smile on my face and hand her three children’s menus.
She goes, “I’m an adult!” She walked out, but the satisfaction of not getting in trouble or having to serve her was worth it.
The next story is once again about a parking war, but this time between delivery vehicles.
Just a Few Minutes
I delivered jugs of water to homes and offices. My work truck was fairly big. I had a building I delivered to that had 8-10 stops in it and was one of the few places that had a loading bay.
I pull up and see a small courier car pull into the bay and stop right at the entrance. I can’t get the angle I need to back into the open spot in the loading bay.
The driver was just getting out of the car. I politely asked if she could back up so I could get into the dock. Her: I’ll be a few minutes… Me: Yes but if you take five seconds, we can both do what we need to do… Her: I’ll be a few minutes… Then she just walks into the building.
So I maneuver my truck nice and tight to the building and the loading dock entrance and block her car in.
She comes out and sees my truck… Her: You need to move… Me: I’ll only be a few minutes. Her: Move your truck now… I tell her, “It’s okay, I’ll only be a few minutes.” And I walk into the building.
The next story is about problematic neighbors.
Shine a Light
Some years ago, we had some new neighbors move in next door. The husband traveled a lot and his wife was afraid of just about everything—the dark, thunderstorms, you name it.
The problem was the floodlights over their garage doors. She would leave them on all night, every night.
They were positioned such that they would shine into our bedroom at night. We were not able to block them effectively with our curtains. We asked them politely several times if they could turn them off at night. They adamantly refused.
I thought about taking the bulbs out, shooting them out with pellets, etc. The solution that I arrived at was to simply loosen them up enough that they wouldn’t come on.
Finally, my neighbor asked me if I ever had any trouble with my outdoor lights. I told him yes, I did. I said that they would loosen up occasionally and I would have to re-tighten them. I blamed it on the vibration from the traffic on our street. He said he had the same problem.
I told him that I finally just gave up and left them off. He eventually did the same. We were happy with the final outcome.
The guy in the next story would learn to plan his off days a little more carefully
The Frequent Caller
In my old department, there was this dispatcher named G. He needed to stay home for the gas and electric people to do some work on his home.
Instead of taking a whole day off, he made the mistake of telling our boss that he’ll be at work no later than noon. G said he’d call to see how we were doing. I was left to dispatch for that day.
Starting at 7 a.m., he called numerous times. By the time it reached 9, G must have called at least 20 times. Each time he said the same exact thing: “Is it busy? Do I need to come in?”
By the 20th call, I got fed up and told him that it was really busy and we could use the help. He hesitated but eventually agreed.
When he came in, he realized that it wasn’t that busy and asked why I did that. My response? “Because you called me more than a psycho ex-girlfriend would. I had to stop you somehow.”
Our boss wouldn’t let him leave and thought the whole thing was hilarious especially since G knows better than to do things like that to me.
The next story is about a customer who had a bad attitude.
A Little Kindness Goes a Long Way
One of my biggest pet peeves is when somebody buys something, but instead of handing me the money, they plop it down on the counter. So one guy came up and was being… undesirable.
When it comes time to pay, he grabs a wad of crumpled cash and throws it on the counter in front of me. I stare at it for a few moments and eventually, the guy says, “The money’s right there, you can count it!”
I pick it up, thumb through it incredibly slowly (about 30-45 seconds without exaggeration), and this guy is giving me the ANGRIEST look. I grab his change and set it on the counter.
He tries to dip his hand beneath mine to grab it so I slide my hand to the side and drop it on the counter. I slide the item he bought across the counter and look up and smile with, “Have a very nice day sir.”
The guy in the next story would learn a valuable lesson about not eating food that doesn’t belong to you.
Not Yours To Eat
My old college roommate didn’t know how to cook or do dishes and didn’t go food shopping much. This led to him eating my food, especially my leftovers as those were prepared meals.
I would use my leftovers to meal prep for the week and told him to stop as it was expensive as well as inconvenient. The behavior did not stop and he actually seemed to be eating more of my food out of spite.
To punish him, I baked a chocolate cake with habanero peppers and mixed the frosting with wasabi. I labeled it with my name and a bold “Do Not Eat” and waited.
This guy has a very low tolerance for spicy foods. About two days later, he and a couple of his friends got to drinking and decided to dig into my food.
Somehow, they ate about a third of it before realizing it, and when they inevitably went to throw up from over drinking and eating spicy foods, the cake hit them a second time.
When he asked me why I made this monstrosity, I told him I found a recipe online that I wanted to try. He stopped eating my cooking after that.
The next story is about more neighbors who just don’t know anything about respecting thy neighbor.
No Love for Thy Neighbor
Now, we all like the occasional garden party with noise. However, my neighbor seems to be “an entertainer.” That is, every weekend evening they like to host a party, often in the garden, and have friends and several families with kids over.
This family and their guests, rather than having civilized discussions, like to shout over each other, and generally whoever shouts the loudest gets to talk for a while.
Let alone the kids who start screaming for attention. I used to let this go at first, but after a whole summer of them being louder than my TV or stereo in my own home, I had to do something about it.
So now I wait until they serve up the food and everyone’s plated up…before I crank up the lawnmower and drown them out so they can no longer hear each other.
They then scuttle off inside, having to carry everything in and relay the table. Sometimes they come out after I’m done and set up and continue.
It just so happens that I’ll then find a bush or tree that needs tending to with the hedge trimmer. Petty as heck, but it does make me feel better.
The guy in the next story certainly has no consideration for his roommate.
My roommate enjoys nice long showers in the morning using all of the hot water. Recently, I realized that he literally jumps out of bed and runs into the bathroom when he hears my alarm.
I started putting my alarm on silent for a while and this was working well enough, but I still missed my morning shower several times because of his unreasonably long showers.
So I just started moving to two alarms, with one alarm about an hour and a half before I normally get up.
This has caused him, for about two weeks now, to get up really early to run the hot water out, yet he’s still out of the shower with enough time for it to be warm again for me when I jump in. Small victories are nice.
The next story is about a mother who had no consideration for her fellow passengers.
Problems in Plane Sight
I was on a transatlantic flight and was sitting in the first row. The woman next to me had a baby and a small child. She sat on the opposite end of the row from me and sat her toddler right next to me leaving an empty seat between her and her kid.
I had no issue with any of it until the food arrived and the child started moving around and kicking my computer and was making it impossible for me to eat.
I asked her politely to do something about this and her reply was that it is known that those seats are for people with children. I was so angry I couldn’t eat.
I took my tiny wine bottle and filled it up with water. When she took the kid to the toilet I proceeded to pour the water on the seat next to me.
They came back and after ten minutes the kid said to the mother that he is wet. She sat the child in the other seat and put a towel on the wet seat and sat there. Didn’t say a word to me. I think I slept the rest of the flight.
The next story is once again about the lack of office lunch etiquette.
Several coworkers and I noticed that our lunches and drinks would constantly go missing, even when clearly marked. One of my coworkers was a diabetic and it ended up causing him to have a hypoglycemic incident due to having his food taken.
So after that, things got serious. He brought in a lunch that was laced with laxatives and a Carolina reaper extract oil.
The previous diabetic incident was well documented and HR at this point was now aware of the food bandit. Luckily, that day, he hit the jackpot.
Turns out it was someone from HR who was taking people’s food. We heard a blood-curdling scream when the guy took his first bite and was caught red-handed. It only got better from there.
He stayed in the office the remainder of the day as things were sorted out. However, he ended up in the bathroom suffering even more. So not only did he get his mouth burned, he was pooping his brains out at the same time.
The next story will make your blood boil with anger at this woman’s unbelievable actions.
Oh Snow You Didn’t
It had snowed a bunch and so I went out to clear a spot for my boyfriend when he got home from work.
I spent a while digging it out, and as I was finishing up, some girl just drove up and parked in it—while I was still shoveling it! I told her that I had just dug it out intending to use it and asked her to move.
She just got out of her car and walked away. She lived two buildings down, so she normally wouldn’t park there anyways!
Our complex had a mini snowplow and the dude was plowing in the area and saw this all go down. He helped me move all the snow from the pile he just created and put it all around her car. We buried it up to the door handles on all sides.
He then dug out a new spot for me. I saw her later trying to dig out her car, and it turns out she didn’t even have a shovel. So, I went out and re-shoveled the sidewalk, throwing all of the extra snow on her vehicle while I did it.
The next story proves that some people just do not respect things that clearly do not belong to them.
I used to live on the third floor of an apartment that had its laundry in the basement. This means four flights of stairs for me, no elevator, and I have a newborn so I’m washing quite a bit.
We have cubbies in the laundry room for our soap. I’ve lived there a year and never had an issue leaving my soap down there.
Apparently, some new people had moved in that were using my soap. When I realized it, I left a note asking that they stop. Nothing. They kept using it. Okay. Now I’m angry. So I got two bottles of soap.
A blue-colored one, and a clear-colored one. I marked the bottles CLEARLY that they belonged to me (so they couldn’t accidentally say they thought they were theirs), and filled the blue soap with blue Rit dye.
I then filled the clear soap with unscented bleach. And waited. The next morning, I hear screaming coming from the laundry room. Four floors up I heard it.
In the laundry room, I found a bunch of wet clothes in the garbage that was bleach stained. Four days later, I saw a young man with a blue stained t-shirt.
The next story is about a small bit of unforgettable revenge dished out to a very rude customer.
Back in the early 90s, supermarket cashiers had to type every price in by hand. I was at a Vons in San Diego, walking toward the only open check stand with a single bottle of soda in my hand.
Suddenly this hoity-toity lady with a cart stacked to the top flew out of one of the aisles like a freight train and cut me off.
“I’m in a hurry,” she said, then looked away like she was annoyed that I’d been born. I looked at the cashier. He rolled his eyes and got to work.
Five minutes later, she’s walking out the door and it’s my turn. “You’re good,” says the cashier. “I put your soda on her tag.” Darn, that felt really good. Never forgot it.
In order to protect the privacy of those depicted, some names, locations, and identifying characteristics have been changed and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.