A year ago, we scoured the Internet to find some of the pettiest food revenge stories it had to offer. Now, we’re back with more food-filled acts of retribution.
Most of us have been in similar situations as the ones you’ll soon read below, sometimes looking back and regretting our inaction. Hopefully these accounts will inspire something in us the next time we’re wronged.
Here are 16 tales where a hero, or heroine, overcomes odds to right an injustice. While these odds aren’t the most phenomenal, the justice dealt is pretty sweet.
Because it’s still Reddit, just make sure to take each delicious story with a grain of salt.
So I use to work at a fast food place and nothing will make you lose faith in humanity faster than that or a retail job. Anyways… I am working the drive thru window where you hand the people their shit, wave em off, and on to the next one – I also have to make the customer’s drinks. We, like most places, have an automated soda fountain that, with the press of a button, fills the cup with soda. It’s very helpful being able to fill up 5 different cups of ice and watch them all fill up simultaneously… pretty satisfying too.
Now to the story. Next car pulls up, it’s a dad and his daughter. I hand pops his drinks and he’s looking at them oddly.
After I hand off the sodas he says to me, annoyed, “Could you bother filling these up all the way, buddy?”
The drinks fill up automatically, and ever single time, not even a half inch below from the brim of the cup for a couple of reasons:
1.) So when you put the straw in soda doesn’t spurt out.
2.) So when I put the lid on your drink, soda doesn’t come out the sides.
Nope. This guy really acted like I was stiffing him here.
What do I do? I give my fakest smile and “Wow, okay sorry about that!” ever, and proceed to fill up his sodas to the brim, to the point where the soda is over the brim, barely clinging together from overflowing.
Then I put the lids on – of course soda comes out – and the lids are distorted, looking like they’re about to burst from the pressure of the soda they are still retaining within the cup. I made sure to wipe of the sides of the cups.
I then hand him the drinks. “Here you go, bud.”
He felt accomplished but when I said that I noticed he knew he might have overreacted I think. Not sure, meh.
He then goes to put his straw in.
Soda shoots out the straw opening, out from the lid’s sides, and all over his cup holder and car.
I had handed off his food to him already so it was pretty glorious watching him fumble around in his bag for napkins while his embarrassed high school daughter bitched him out for asking for more soda.
He could have asked for more napkins too as I stared at him – I never closed the window, but he didn’t. He did what he needed to do – never look at me again and leave.
A few years ago my friend and I went into Taco Bell to grab some food to go. My friend’s food came first and he went over to the sauce area and grabbed a few sauce packets (4 or 5 at the most).
All of a sudden, I heard the manager from behind the counter shout condescendingly “Have you had enough?!“
My friend sheepishly tried to defend himself saying he barely grabbed any. The manager insisted that he’s had enough and should “Just stop.”
He was confused and embarrassed and just walked out.
I was so pissed at her that as soon as my food came out, I went over to the sauce area and grabbed the entire bin of hot sauce and quickly left. Let’s just say that justice was delicious for the next year in my apartment.
I wish I could’ve seen the manager’s face when she saw ALL THE SAUCE was gone.
So I’m a high school senior and I work at my local movie theater. I get a lot of rude customers, and for the most part I let it roll off my back, but for some reason this one really got me. Anyways, I’m walking down the hallway, broom and dustpan in hand, sweeping up popcorn. This group of about 5 kids, each probably like 15-16 years old, approaches me.
As they pass me, the girl in the middle grabs a handful of popcorn and throws it at my feet saying: “You missed one.” and then walks away laughing like a fucking bitch.
As far as rudeness goes this wasn’t even that bad. I’ve had people scream in my face or just straight up insult me. Maybe it was just that this was my 7th hour of that shift, but I was really fucking angry (on the inside, I didn’t give the little bitch a reaction, which I’m sure she was hoping for).
I can tell by the direction that they’re walking that they’re going to see Unfriended, a shitty horror movie, but more importantly, rated R. Normally I don’t really give a shit if kids sneak into movies, I’ll only ask for tickets if my manager asks me to or is watching.
Today however, I felt extra motivated to go check tickets so I turn around and walk quickly over to the auditorium’s door (luckily the group was walking slow). I stand there, arms crossed, while one of the kids reaches for the door.
They only open it about an inch before I push it closed and say “Tickets and ID, please.”
I get the usual fumbling around in purses, huffing and complaining from these little shits but I hold strong. Eventually after like 3 minutes of them trying to make excuses they pull out their Paul Blart Mall Cop tickets, like I’m actually going to let them in, LOL.
As they turn around to leave, I put on the biggest, customer-satisfaction smile I can make and say: “Enjoy Paul Blart!”
I then guard that movie for the next hour, just to make sure they didn’t come back.
I buy my husband Pop-Tarts. Two boxes at a time, and he freaking loves them.
I occasionally like a breakfast pastry treat as well, but my husband is a Pop-Tart vacuum or something, because every time I go to find myself one they’re always all gone!
I decided to buy my OWN box along with the two I regularly buy for my husband.
I am not quite the black hole for poptarts as my husband is, so my one box lasted about two-and-a-half weeks before he found them where I had been hiding them in the cabinet where I keep my casserole dishes.
His were long gone, you see…. there were two packages left, and they were gone in seconds! (okay, a day or two, but STILL). They were the s’mores kind too. My absolute favorite.
The next time I went grocery shopping I got him his boxes of poptarts, but I got him the unfrosted kind. The UNfrosted kind.
Enjoy your roof shingles, lover.
My roommate and I have been friends since high school ten years ago, lived together for the last three. For the most part, things have been great, we get along well and both of us are easy going to not sweat any minor things.
Lately though she’s gotten very careless – I’ve gradually had to take over doing almost all the cleaning, dishes, etc. Plus I don’t think she’s bought groceries once over the last three or four months.
My first petty revenge was to stop buying groceries myself, letting the fridge gradually empty as we ate through things. I’ve seen her come in, open the fridge and get frustrated when there’s nothing there. But it gets better! On Sunday, when there was nothing left besides milk, I ordered a pizza before she came home. I ate all I wanted and then gave the last couple slices away to a nice homeless man who’s often outside our building. Then … I brought the empty box up to our apartment and left the empty box on the stove.
She came home shortly thereafter to the room smelling like pizza with an inviting box sitting in the kitchen. Opened it and found … two leftover crusts! Take that!
Ok, so I manage a small town pizza store. We get our fair share of bad customers.
Any way! This lady calls this morning and wants a delivery. Naturally, I ask for her name and her address. She refuses to tell me this information, insisting I just look it up in our computer by her phone number. Now, we can do this, sure, but the system is far from perfect and half the time the info I find isn’t correct.
After some back and forth about this she finally gives me the information. Now, to the order. She refuses to tell me what she wants!
She says, “It’s just easier to look up what I had last time..”
Alright people, in no way is this easier. I plead with her to just give me her order, but to no avail.
I’m fed up with her at this point. I look up her last order and it was just a $1.99 garlic bread. I tell her that we can’t even deliver something that small, and she’s annoyed because that’s not even what she wants to order! AHG!
So I finally squeeze her damn order out of her.
It’s 20 Garlic Wings.
What is so hard about just saying 20 garlic wings to the guy taking your order? Seriously?
Well, jokes on her. I sent her 19 garlic wings.
I was 18 and in my first “managerial” job, i.e. Swing Shift Manager, at a fast food burger joint. Like every place, we had a couple of “usuals” who were assholes for the sake of being assholes. One of them, an over-the-top egregiously aggressive woman who found fault with everything, would go ballistic if you so much as failed to address her as “ma’am” in every sentence.
Things came to a head when she was so rude to one of our counter clerks that she made the girl cry. I told the girl to go back to the break room and take a breather, and then calmly informed the woman that she was no longer welcome in our store.
That triggered the nuclear option.
I waited for the screaming and cursing to stop, waved her to the door, and then watched as she left.
I sent Corporate her CC number and license plate info, and they sent her a “you’re banned from ALL the stores” letter, filed it with the local PD, and told us to call the cops immediately if she ever showed up in our store again.
Which she did.
A few weeks later, she showed up ready to launch into another tirade for whatever imagined offense might occur. We politely kicked her out despite her screaming that the do-not-trespass order was fake, wasn’t legal, didn’t apply to her, her lawyer said … It happened again a couple of times, but eventually her luck broke and there happened to be two cops on their dinner break in the restaurant.
I was on shift that night. And I can tell you that I have rarely been so satisfied as when I showed the officers the order, identified the woman as the person referred to in it, told them about the frequent return visits and then watched them arrest her on the spot. Best of all, I never had to testify – she went totally ballistic and scratched a cop’s face. No need to book her for trespassing when resisting arrest and cop assault were so convenient!
After they hauled her away, I noticed that her car was still in our lot… Oh yissss. That call to the towing company was the most satisfying two minutes of my young life.
Sure, I could have just let it sit there until she came back for it. But make my register clerk cry? Yeah, enjoy your trip to the impound lot… ma’am.
One night I was out clubbing with my friends, and was minding my own business. Suddenly a lady came to me and said something (that I couldn’t hear over the music). My face said something like “what?” without using my voice.
Then she just throws her drink in my face. She was super attractive, so she probably just wanted to establish dominance over an average looking guy. I dunno.
Anyway, after comprehending what just happened, I went to the bar. I got the bartender’s attention and ordered a beer.
He poured the beer. I grabbed it.
I went back to this woman. I looked at her. Looked at the beer. And then looked at her again. She understood what was going to happen.
She said something along the lines of “Don’t you fucking dare” quite loudly, so this I could hear over the music.
I threw the beer right in her face ruining her makeup and everything. After a moment of shock, she ran to her friends and cried.
I left satisfied.
I was at this club one night that had two levels, one for dancing and one that is a bar type area with some food. After hanging out on the first floor all night I decide to go get some food on the second level because by this point I’m drunk and starving.
I look on the menu and I am a little surprised that they have sushi and decide that is going to be the solution to my hunger. I’m chatting with my girl waiting for my food to arrive and once it does I’m super happy and I start chowing down while still chatting away. The table we were sitting at was a little small so the server sat the sushi on the table behind me and the area wasn’t packed so I thought no big deal.
So I’m turning away from my girl to eat and toward her to talk. About the fifth turn in as I’m getting more food there is a super drunk guy eating my fucking sushi!
Now I’m a little compassionate because I have done stupid drunk things too but I’m also really pissed that he is eating my food. We make eye contact and he knows he is wrong, I know he is wrong, and I very calmly push the glob of wasabi and ginger that I have barely touched toward him and tell him that if he doesn’t eat them in one bite we are going to have a problem.
He surprisingly does because I guess our drunk brains agreed that would be dispensed justice. He eats them both in one bite and proceeds to have somewhat of a rough time with it coughing and eyes watering.
What could have turned into an incident was handled with a food challenge, it felt good.
Yesterday I was shopping at a pretty busy Walmart right after work with the girlfriend. We were getting a few cheap bar stools for our new apartment. Self checkout was pretty packed so I went to the 10 items or less line that only had 3 people in it. I notice some commotion coming from the person in front of the old lady in front of me with the cashier.
The cashier politely asked for his women in her early 40’s if she can go in one of the other lines that have way more counter space for ringing things up. I felt like that was a reasonable request because her cart was so full of food and clothing I was surprised it wasn’t falling out the sides.
Well this lady flat out refused stating “I waited my turn in line you have to ring me up or I’m complaining to your manager.”
The cashier folded and started to ring up her items. Soon the small counter space was filled up and so was the bagging area but this women’s cart was still half full.
She complained once more scowling and saying “Can’t you hurry it up a bit? I need to beat rushour traffic so I can make dinner in time for church (Ash Wednesday was yesterday when this happened).”
The cashier then says “this would take less time if you went to the regular lanes where they have a bagger.”
At this point the old lady in front of me just leaves the line to go to a different line to get her bananas. My girlfriend is getting annoyed at this point and wants to switch too but I’m a pretty patient person. My girlfriend starts making passive aggressive remarks loud enough for the lady in front to hear but not to her face.
Stuff along the lines of “I hate those idiots who take hundreds of items to the express lane.” You could tell this lady heard it because she started getting flustered.
About 5 minutes later she finally finished. After we had finished packing up our car and heading for the exit, we saw that lady putting the last of her groceries in her minivan.
I decided to slow to a stop in front of her car blocking her in and turn the car off. I told my girlfriend to be patient for a few minutes and winked that our battery had died. I hopped out of the car, popped the hood, and disconnecting the battery. This lady starts honking like crazy so I turned to her and just shrugged.
She got out of her car yelling at me to move. I told her no can do the car just died and won’t start up. I pretended to call a tow truck and told her she would have to wait 30 min for it to get there.
This lady had a mental breakdown started cussing me out and eventually climbed back in her car. Around 10 min later the people in the car in front of her got back and started unloading their groceries.
She started honking and yelling at them to hurry up. Amazingly this just made them go slower. They eventually finished and pulled out and the rude lady was free to go.
I reconnected the battery after she left and laughed about it with my girlfriend all the way home.
I’ll start off by saying that I take pride in cooking customers orders to perfection, and I strive to always make the customer happy.
It’s hard to do that when the person calls back every time no matter what and says that we messed their order up in some way [demanding a comped order].
Well today, sir, was your last meal from us. I deleted your account and blocked all of your numbers that you have ever called us from. When you call, you will get a never ending elevator music tone.
I also took the liberty of emailing every pizza place in a 3 mile radius of our store to inform them of your selfish habit. I told them what you do, and how many times you have done it to us.
Hope you like Chinese food from now on fucker.
At work I measure out two ounces of cashews in little bags. The bag itself weighs .03 ounces so I usually do 2.03 or 2.05 ounces to make up for it.
A lady asks me for a bag of warm cashews, I hand her one and ring her up. She holds them in her hand and tells me that that is not two ounces.
“Ma’am I assure you they are two ounces, I measured them myself.”
She does not believe me and asks for me to measure them in front of her.
I put the bag on the scale and it measures 2.05 ounces, so I say “Oh! Looks like you have a little more.” So I remove a single cashew from the bag and hand it back to her.
She was not happy and refused to buy the cashews but it was worth it.
My boyfriend came home to our tiny apartment at 1 AM on a weeknight with 4 of his obnoxious, drunken friends in tow.
He knew I had to work the next day, he knew I absolutely hated those particular friends, and he knew I hate surprise guests.
So I just went in the bedroom and tried to sleep, unsuccessfully.
This guy is a massively neurotic neat freak- he is physically unable to relax in a room that is not clean to his standards. So after he finally passed out, I went into the kitchen and poured maple syrup all over the floor and told him one of his idiot friends did it.
He just about had a panic attack. It took him hours to get rid of the sticky. Those friends were never invited back.
My 21st birthday was on Thursday this past week. But I’m working an internship in Florida (I’m from California) and I needed to work early the next morning. So I was just going to buy a six pack and go home and have a nice night in. So I go into this liquor store on my birthday and put a six pack at the check out counter. The guy asks for my ID and I proudly give it to him because hey I don’t get a first legal purchase any other day except today. He looks at it and then says some words you never want to here:
“I’m sorry. I can’t let you purchase this beer.”
I’m really confused. It’s my 21st birthday. I should be able to buy this. I ask him why and he tells me I have to wait until midnight (which would be Friday, the day AFTER my birthday).
I’m from California and don’t know Florida drinking laws and so I leave in defeat.
Later I’m at a bar (who did serve me) and ask them about this situation. They told me this guy was basically just being a dick for some reason and that there’s no law that says I can’t be served on my 21st birthday.
Well this got me angry and I came up with a plan.
This is where the vengeance comes in. The next day after work, I go to that same liquor store. I put 3 six packs on the counter along with 2 fifths and a handle. He asks for my ID again and he approves that I am officially 21 now (somehow that 24 hours made a difference) and starts scanning my items. When he tells me the total, I tell him:
“Actually, can you take this six pack off. That’s a little too much for me.”
He takes it off and tells me my new total. I do this for every god damn item I put up there. And then I just walk out.
No explanation. No reason why. But he knew why. Oh he definitely knew why.
This started on Thanksgiving this year.
I am from Scotland and have been living in the US since Christmas day 2013.
In 2011 I met my wife when I was working in London. She is from Houston, Texas and was sent over to work for the London office of our company. We got married in 2012 and due to the company we work for closing down, we moved back over to Austin, Texas where she was living for 20 years before London.
With her being from Texas you can imagine that some of her family are extremely conservative. Which I frankly don’t care if they are or not. However, doesn’t matter if you are a Conservative, liberal, socialist if you are a cunt then you can go fuck yourself.
We are sitting in the living room watching TV after an amazing Thanksgiving dinner. Someone mentioned the whole new open carry law starting this new year in Texas.
Being from Scotland where guns are a “no no” they ask me “What do you think of that law, uberhaqer. Being from a place with no guns?”
“It’s kinda foreign to me. Not sure how I would react seeing a holstered gun in plain view. Honestly think I would feel uncomfortable and unsafe but that is just my upbringing,” Which I think is fair enough to say.
My wife’s aunt turns to me and comes out with, “Well that’s because you are from a socialist country. You also have a queen that rules you people. You are not citizens. You are a subject. If you were allowed guns you would be a citizen.”
She then proceeds to tell me that the Syrian refugees coming over its bad and she needs to protect herself from them.
Fast forward an hour and she is pretty drunk. We are about to head back home. I thank everyone for the great meal and she turns and says “Too bad you are not going back to your own country.”
I don’t say anything at all. I did not want to stoop to get level…then.
Since then she has apologized. Via text.
I reply saying “No problem. Dont worry about it.”
So. We go to Houston for Christmas. She is there. We exchange gifts. I hand her an envelope. She opens it and as I expected, she loses her fucking mind. Throws the piece of paper on the ground and storms out.
My mother in law picks up the paper and reads.
“A donation of $250 had been made to unicef usa for the Syrian Child Refugees by Uberhaqer on behalf of Aunt’s Name”
I just say “I thought, judging by the pro life sticker on her car, she would appreciate that…my bad.”
Sit down and swig my whiskey. Rest of the evening was awkward. What a bawbag she is.
It’s lunch time and I’m purchasing a sandwich and drink from a local supermarket.
While I’m waiting in line this woman (We’ll call her “Loud Bitch” = LB) is shrieking down her phone to who I can only presume is her now totally deaf boyfriend. She’s visibly pissing off most people in the general vicinity with her swearing and general attitude.
As it’s coming up to my turn to check out, she’s decided she’s fed up with waiting and puts her big bag of M&M’s in front of my lunch on the conveyor and says “I need to go first.”
Without so much as a moment to think and without making eye contact I pick them up and move them behind my items, saying nothing.
LB: “What the fuck are you doing?”
Me: “I was here first, wait your turn.”
LB: “Fuck you I am on my lunch break and I have a very important job blah blah blah” (I can’t remember the whole rant)
Me: “It’s lunchtime, everyone is on lunch, you have to wait”
LB: “Fuck you! I asked nicely!” (lolwut.)
At this point LB throws her M&M’s in front of my lunch still ranting and it’s now my turn to check out, enter awesome check-out girl. (Who we’ll call “ACG”.)
So after seeing the bag of M&M’s land on the conveyor I decide, fuck it and I accept LB’s gracious offering and buy the M&M’s for myself, leaving her M&M-less.
Of course the battle was not yet over, more screaming was coming my way.
LB: “What are you doing, those are mine!”
Me: “Nope, I’m paying for them now, if you want M&M’s you’ll have to go get some and wait in line.”
LB: “You’re a theif! You stole my M&M’s!”
Me: “No I just bought the M&M’s you rudely threw onto my pile of stuff.”
LB: “I’m not getting anymore, give me my M&M’s back. You’re a thief!”
ACG: “Ma’am, I suggest you go and get a new pack and wait in line, there are people waiting. The gentlemen hasn’t stolen anything, he paid money for the M&M’s.”
LB: “Call the fucking manager, get this piece of shit kicked out for stealing.”
Me: “Mind if I step out anyway? I have a very important job and I’m on lunch?”
LB: “Where the fuck are you goi-“
ACG: “Sure, here’s your receipt.”
To wrap up, the M&M’s were delicious, I shared them with my co-workers. Don’t know if LB went back to get some, but I highly recommend them.
Note: Stories edited for grammar, punctuation and context.