A Few Years Ago
A few years ago, I shared a small apartment with a roommate, and we had neighbors who loved throwing loud parties in the middle of the week. One night, my roommate struggled to sleep before an early morning commitment, frustrated by the endless noise. Instead of confronting them directly, he came up with a devious plan—he urinated on a metal pizza pan and stuck it in the freezer.
Once the pee was frozen solid, he flipped the pan over, creating a perfect disc of ice, and discreetly slid it under the neighbors’ door onto their fully carpeted entryway. By morning, we woke to the sound of furious shouting as they blamed their overnight guests for the mysterious mess. Their frustration was priceless, and my roommate finally got his revenge in the most unexpected wa
A Respected Doctor
My uncle was a respected doctor, always busy, always in control. His wife, a devoted stay-at-home mother, catered to his every demand. He expected his breakfast at a precise time, his clothes folded just so, and his favorite drink ready when he arrived home. Dinner followed a strict schedule, with a rotating menu that never changed. For years, my aunt met his expectations without complaint—until one night, everything unraveled.
That evening was meatloaf night, a dish she’d made countless times without issue. But this time, my uncle erupted in rage, calling it garbage and flinging his plate across the room. As always, my aunt quietly apologized and cleaned up the mess. After his passing, she confessed to my mother that, for the past 30 years, she had been serving him meatloaf made entirely from canned dog food—without a single complaint.
Borrowing Things
I usually don’t mind when my roommates borrow my things, as long as they replace what they take. But my current roommate doesn’t seem to understand this simple rule. When I went to do my laundry, I found my box of washing powder completely empty. She could have replaced it with the cheapest brand, and I wouldn’t have cared, but instead, she left me with nothing. That was the last straw.
So, I bought a new box of washing powder—along with some Dylon machine dye. I mixed the dye with a bit of powder and poured it back into the old box, keeping my fresh supply hidden in my room. A week later, I came home to find her laundry hanging outside, all stained pink. Furious, she confronted me, but I simply asked why she used my washing powder when the box had my name on it. She never borrowed from me again.
Pick Up Dog Food
I went to Costco one day to pick up dog food and spent ages searching for a parking spot. Finally, I found one at the far end of the lot, but just as I was about to pull in, a woman sped over the curb and nearly hit me to steal it. I slammed on my brakes just in time to avoid a collision. To my surprise, she shook her head and wagged her finger at me as if I had done something wrong.
Refusing to back down, I stayed in the aisle while my girlfriend, frustrated by the situation, took the Costco card and headed inside. When she returned with the dog food, she casually pushed the shopping cart right into the stolen spot before getting back in the car. The woman’s stunned expression made my whole week—I couldn't stop grinning, knowing she had to get out and move the cart herself.
At The Grocery Store
While waiting in line at the grocery store with a 12-pack of drinks, a woman suddenly stepped up beside me instead of getting behind me. As the customer ahead finished paying, she boldly pushed past me and cut the line. I was tempted to let it slide—she seemed to be in more of a hurry than I was—but before I could react, the cashier spoke up: “Uh, I’m sorry, but she was here first.” The woman scoffed and begrudgingly stepped aside.
Impressed by the cashier’s quick response, I couldn’t help but smile. To show my appreciation—and maybe to make a point—I struck up a long, cheerful conversation. “How’s your day been?” “Thank goodness it’s Friday!” “Did you do anything fun for Halloween?” I knew exactly what I was doing, and so did everyone else. The woman behind me? Let’s just say I could feel her glare the entire time. I enjoyed every second of it.
Finding Parking
Finding parking at my university was always a nightmare, especially in the crowded lot I chose that day. As I circled, searching for a spot, I noticed a Corvette selfishly occupying four prime spaces near the front. Annoyed but with no other choice, I kept driving until, after ten frustrating minutes, I finally found a spot at the back.
Still irritated, I decided to leave a note on the Corvette’s windshield: “Sorry I hit your car, you probably won’t even notice the damage.” When I returned after class, I saw the owner—a typical college-aged guy—frantically inspecting his car while yelling into his phone. I had no clue who was on the other end of that call, but I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for them.
A Trip To California
My siblings and I took a trip to California, and one evening, we decided to watch a basketball game in Sacramento. At the game, I draped my jacket over the back of my seat but worried I might forget it. I asked my sister to remind me, only for her to respond, “I’m not your mother.” Her reaction caught me off guard, especially since our trip had been smooth and enjoyable up to that point.
A few nights later, we went out for dinner, and my sister left the table first, forgetting her purse. As the responsible older brother, I grabbed it without saying a word. About seven or eight blocks away, she suddenly panicked, realizing her purse was missing and sprinted back to the restaurant. When we arrived, she was in distress—until I held up her purse, met her eyes, and smugly declared, “I’m not your mother.” It was the perfect moment of poetic justice.
Playing Music Together
Jimi and I used to play music together, but our friendship ended in the worst way. While I was out of state for work, my only roommate moved out with Jimi’s help. Since I owned the house, I assumed my space was safe—but I was wrong. Jimi let himself in through the dog door and rummaged through my room. Luckily, my Nest Cam captured everything.
For ten minutes, he searched every drawer, left, then returned for a final sweep. The camera caught his stunned expression when he finally noticed it, right before he unplugged it. I wasted no time posting the footage on Facebook, tagging our mutual friends. Within five minutes, Jimi was calling me, frantically apologizing and begging me to take it down. Needless to say, I never did—and we’re no longer friends.
An Annoying Habit
My coworker has an annoying habit of tossing her lunch scraps into the trash can by my desk instead of using her own. She claims it's because she can’t stand the smell of leftover ketchup. Despite my repeated requests for her to stop, she continues to do it—always waiting until I step away to sneak it in. To make matters worse, she hides my trash can under my desk, as if I wouldn’t notice.
So, I decided to get even. Whenever she leaves her desk, I fish out the little plastic container from her lunch and stash it in the back of her bottom desk drawer. Right now, there are six of them sitting there, with the oldest one dating back a month. She hasn’t noticed the smell yet, but I’m waiting for the moment she does. Until then, I plan to keep adding to the collection.
Saving Enough
After saving enough money, I was thrilled to move out of my apartment and buy a house. Excitedly, I shared the news with my favorite neighbor, only to learn something unsettling—our landlord had a reputation for never returning security deposits. Undeterred, I submitted my notice, but the landlord skipped the final walk-through. A month later, when I reached out about my deposit, I got no response.
Determined, I took the matter to small claims court. Instead of settling, the landlord escalated the case, hiring a lawyer to push it to a higher court—a tactic that usually discouraged tenants. But I refused to back down. I confirmed I could represent myself and sent a certified letter to her attorney requesting full disclosure of their evidence. A week later, the lawyer called, asking what I wanted to settle. I got my deposit back and helped other tenants do the same.
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.
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.
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.
Barking Mad
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 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?
Yearbook Embarrassment
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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.”
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.
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.
Shower Hour
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.
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.
Lunch Thief
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.
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.
Soap Bandits
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.
Secret Soda
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.