We’ve all been guilty of, or victims to, petty revenge. Sometimes the smallest, most inconsequential act of defiance can really help vent rage and frustration. It also can sometimes make for a pretty damn funny story if the revenge is good enough. Whether it’s an elaborate, well-planned act of vengeance or a quick-witted response to an injustice, sometimes you just feel better.
We submit to you, the ten most petty acts of food-inspired revenge seen on Reddit. Naturally, take these stories with a grain of salt. Though, enjoy them nonetheless.
My significant other decided he didn’t want to go on the date we had been planning for over a week because he was too tired. He was too tired because he had stayed up late redditing and playing games. If you’re reading this, I drank the last of your chocolate milk.
It was delicious.
When I was in college I worked the night shift at a gas station. One night a group of four high school kids drove in, and it looked like they were on a double date. They were apparently running on fumes and badly needed gas, but didn’t have much cash between them. They all came in and emptied the change from their pockets onto the counter and came up with $1.12 total. I punch in $1.12 as the pre-pay amount for their gas and the nice girl who was driving was appreciative that I had helped count out the change – there were a lot of pennies.
After this the girls go to use the bathroom while the boys peruse the small store. The aisles are angled toward the register so that I can look down them pretty easily. I see one of the boys clearly take a Snickers bar and place it into his jacket pocket — he made absolutely no attempt to hide this action.
I was about to call him out on it, but remembered that they hadn’t started pumping their gas yet. As they were walking out the door, I cleared out the pre-pay amount and typed in $0.59, subtracting the $0.53 that I knew the candy bar cost.
I then waited for the fun.
The nice girl starts pumping her gas and when the pump stopped at $0.59 she looks at me through the glass and raises her hand to make the international gesture for WTF. I motion for her to come inside and she’s a bit annoyed until I explain that her friend stole a candy bar, so I took the price of the candy bar off of the total amount.
The look of incandescent rage that crossed her face was beautiful! She took that anger back out to the car and opened the passenger door. Even though I couldn’t hear her, I could see her yell animatedly with her hands, and soon she started walking back to the store, candy bar in hand.
She placed the candy bar on the counter and said thank you, I put $0.53 back on the pump. I could see her still yelling at him as she finished pumping the gas and drove off.
TL;DR: High school boy steals a candy bar and I let his date know about it in my own way.
I love my boyfriend, but there’s one thing I go nuts on; he leaves Dr. Pepper cans everywhere in the damn house. Usually half empty, and by the time I find them (he puts them in really obscure places, i.e., behind books or tv), they have mold in them.
So after getting ignored when I get after him, I wait. One day he sets his can down next to like four others by the table so he can pee. His method of not getting to drink mold is always looking for the cold can. I get a moldy one I’d put in the fridge, waiting for this, and switch them.
He comes back, sits down.
I wait … yes. He picks it up and drinks it!
He makes an awful face and looks at the can for a second, drinks again! He spits it out and glances over at me. I keep a straight face. He throws it away, along with the rest of the cans.
To this day he hasn’t left a can, remembering that moldy one “he must have grabbed by mistake.”
I used to work for the largest company in the world (by market cap) and know quite a bit about their electronic gadgets. This has earned me the unfortunate family title as tech support for all things Fruit related.
Last week, I received a call from my brother asking if I could fix his friend’s phone as it was acting weirdly. I told him to come by my place and I would get it sorted out. Well, this friend of my brother’s is 16, and kind of a little douche (LD). He also smokes far too much weed to ever be healthy. Anyways, they come by stoned out of their mind right as I finish making myself some delicious baked spaghetti for dinner.
I proceed to update his phone to the new OS and fix his issues and all is ready to go. I come back to find my baked spaghetti completely devoured by LD while my brother was playing video games in the living room.
So I went into the settings and now his phone autocorrects ‘tired’ to ‘high’ every time he types it in. That way, every time he types “I am too tired,” it becomes “I am too high,” etc. Give him the phone back and say all is fixed.
Two days later I get a text message asking “WTF?”, because his friend is grounded for telling his parents he was too high to go to a family dinner.
Never. Eat. My. Goddamn. Spaghetti.
A couple of years back myself and a couple of friends were enjoying some late night weekend drinking. As usual, the bar was packed and I was still waiting for drinks after 40 minutes or so. I am not a patient person. I saw many people come and go from the bar, yet I was still to be served.
When I finally secured a place at the bar, about to hail the bar steward, only to notice a sharp, digging pain in my left side. I look, a young girl, around 18 years old stood there, I heard her friend tell her to ‘dig her elbows deeper’. Then she somehow managed to get in front of me to the bar, block my path and allow her pal access.
I had waited too long for this to happen and not yet being drunk I quickly thought of a plan.
“It’s OK ladies, allow me. This round’s on me. What would you like?”
They requested their order, though I never bothered to listen to it. They then freed up some space for me to get to the bar. I ordered my drink and nothing more. I then proceeded to explain to the barman how I had heard these girls talking about school and probably weren’t old enough for drinking. I turned around to see them casting me some really evil looks as I left the bar with only my drink. They lost their place, had to wait some more time only to be refused drinks as they failed to produce ID.
TL;DR Girl elbows me out of the way in a bar queue, I offer to buy drinks and instead buy only my own, alert the bartender to possible under-age drinking. Feel like a boss all night.
You know the scam. Whine about perfectly good food to get some sort of comp. In their old age, my parents befriended another older couple who would pull this stunt everywhere they went. After my mother told me a few stories about how their new friends had shown them how to get discounted or free meals, I felt like I was suddenly the responsible adult, concerned about the bad influence these people were having on my parents.
While visiting my parents with my girlfriend, this other couple attended dinner with us. As I expected, the food was brought to the table and they immediately began dramatically complaining to one another about the quality/taste/temperature/etc. They were making a scene in order to attract the attention of the waitress.
When our waitress returned to ask how we were doing, the miserable old bastard who played the lead role in their act took a deep breath, struck a dramatic pose (with his hand raised to begin gesticulating for emphasis) and bega–I leaned forward and cut him off before he could finish the first word:
“Everything is absolutely fantastic. It’s all great! Thank you very much!”
She smiled, and began her obligatory “Great, well if you need any–” when he made a second attempt.
“We come here all the time an–“. I didn’t acknowledge that he was speaking at all, repeated that all was just as we ordered and thanked her again. He was stunned and thrown off from his routine by my interruption.
During this pause the waitress walked away (it seemed clear that she knew what they were trying to accomplish).
He turned bright red. I turned to my girlfriend and, smiling and without lowering my voice, stated how pitiful it is that some people could be dishonest, deceitful and put at risk the livelihood of a cook, server or hostess for a pathetic discount or a free early-bird special.
My passive-aggressive reverse-parenting broke my parents of the habit in short time.
I was at the grocery store yesterday getting some stuff for this weekend when I stumbled upon something that really ticked me off. I’m just hanging out, minding my own business looking for stuff on the list my wife made me, when I heard something in the next aisle. Sounded like an argument. I’m a curious guy, so I skiddoodled on over to see what was going on.
Some middle-aged soccer mom looking bitch was absolutely tearing into this cherub-faced kid about them not carrying the type of cake mix she wanted.
“This is ridiculous! What kind of place is this! I need that cake mix! Get your ass to the backroom and look for it again! I’m having a party tomorrow and have to have it!”
The poor guy looked shell-shocked. If he was anything over 16 years old, I would be so surprised. But I’ll give it to him, he handled it pretty well.
“I’m sorry ma’am … we don’t have any. I already looked … we have the store brand, though … it’s basically the same stuff … I’d be happy to get some of that for you?” he replied. Good on you, young store employee.
“NO. I DON’T WANT OFF-BRAND. GET ME YOUR MANAGER.” Cake bitch was losing her shit. I know cake is awesome, but com’on lady, you’re being a big ol’ turd.
The kid’s manager comes out, chats with the lady who continues to freak out, but eventually gets her just to take the store-brand cake mix. He and his employee walk past me, staring straight ahead with the eyes fixed on the empty void ahead of them like only someone who works in a retail job can do.
I was feeling a little bit feisty yesterday.
I can be a bastard-coated-bastard with bastard filling sometimes, but I absolutely hate it when people are rude to store employees/waiters/people they think are ‘beneath them.’ Really, really pisses me off. That bitch wasn’t getting away with it. I stalked her through the store, never getting too close to set off alarm. She moved from aisle to aisle getting more things for her impending bitch-festival, not knowing that a predator was about to strike. She got some pretty delicious looking things, I might add…but I wasn’t after those.
I had my target. I was going to take that fucking cake mix.
I knew exactly where it was in her cart. Her cart was getting pretty full so I decided to move in for the kill. The petty-revenge gods were on my side because somehow the cake mix wasn’t covered by anything. She turned her back on her cart and bent down to get something off the bottom shelf. I rushed in, very nonchalantly snagged the cake mix out of her cart, and moved on.
Of course I had to watch to make sure she checked out. In fact, I made sure I was right behind her. She didn’t notice a thing. For how big of a deal that damn cake mix was to her, I was surprised how little attention she payed to what she put on the conveyor belt.
I smiled all night thinking about how she got home, unloaded all of her groceries, but couldn’t find the cake mix. She probably went back out to her car, looked around, maybe under the seats … but guess what lady, it’s not there.
That cake mix deserved better than her. I bought it. It was confetti cake mix. It might have been for a kids party for all I know, but I don’t care.
I made it when I got home and it was fucking delicious. Store brands are great.
So there I was getting my normal hamburger and fries in the cafe at work tonight. I brought my meal to the cashier to pay and the conversation with her went like this:
Me: “Hi, I have a hamburger without cheese and fries.”
Cashier: “Without cheese?”
Me: “Correct, no cheese.”
I gave her my credit card and then noticed she put it into the register as a goddamn cheeseburger. So I told her:
Me: “I ordered a hamburger, not a cheeseburger. You put it in wrong.”
Cashier: “It’s only a quarter…”
The bitch gave me this look like “come on man, you can afford it,” then billed it to my credit card without fixing her mistake.
I don’t care if it’s a quarter or a fat stack of franklins. She stole from me, so I grabbed her tip jar and took a quarter out of it. She gave me this stunned look … like I was violating her tip jar… like I was stealing from her… like she didn’t deserve it.
I then said, “It’s only a quarter,” shrugged, and walked away.
I made an enemy today.
This is a story from when I was in 8th grade. To provide a little background, I was a nerdy kid of less than 100 pounds with no muscle whatsoever. I was frequently bullied because of this, usually just verbal but sometimes more. This kid named “A.” realized that he could take my lunch and I couldn’t do anything about it, so that went on for a few days. He had a particular taste for packaged meat products – this is important.
After the second time he stole my lunch (and I went hungry as a result), I was fed up. I went home, took a piece of beef jerky, and soaked it in Dave’s Insanity sauce for 36 hours. After sampling the meat (holy shit was it spicy, and I have a high tolerance for heat), I brought it in to school. I told my friends and classmates what was about to go down so that they could watch it happen.
Well, what do you know, A. came around and snatched the beef jerky out of my hands at lunch. I hardly complained, just told him it was a special recipe of mine. He took a giant bite and started to talk about how spicy it was, me telling him that was how I like it (and with a big shit-eating grin on my face).
Fast forward to 10 minutes later and A. was visibly sweating, face red, swearing loudly about the beef jerky he was still nibbling on so he didn’t look like a bitch in front of his friends. He snatched my fruit snacks and applesauce, ate them in front of me, and then I knew I had to end this once and for all, so I tried to think of a plan. Meanwhile, A. spent the rest of lunch blocking anyone else from using the water fountain in order to wash the heat from his mouth.
On the way back from lunch, A. still swearing at me, I told him I knew a little trick to get the heat out. I told him to just massage the corners of his eyes, right near the tear ducts.
A. spent an entire period crying into the water fountain to wash the spice out of his eyes. He never stole my lunch again. And neither did anyone else.
I like my bread and I pay more ($3.50 a loaf) for the brand I like so it’s fresh, soft and tasty. I’d just bought a new loaf with plans of making some PB&J and, more specifically, a grilled cheese to go with the tomato soup I’d bought. I’m a college student and my food budget is a little limited so, sadly, a good loaf of bread with the means to make some sandwiches is a treat.
I went to sleep before work while images of tasty sandwiches danced in my head.
I woke up and went into the kitchen to make my sandwiches only to find that my entire loaf of bread was gone! I already knew what had happened. I went to my roommate and asked him where my bread went.
He told me, “Oh, I ate it while you were sleeping,” like he didn’t just ruin my meal plans for the day.
I asked, “So what the hell am I supposed to eat before work!?” He said, “I didn’t really think about that. Relax, I’ll buy you a new loaf.”
I scrape together something to eat and head off to work, eased a little by the knowledge that my bread will be replaced and I can have a sandwich when I get home.
Fast forward 8.5 hours
I get home, put my things away, wash up, and head to the kitchen to make my sandwich. I see sitting on the counter a loaf of the cheapest generic brand crap he could find. I kid you not, this stuff is hard and tastes like cardboard WHEN IT’S FRESH!! I proceed to flip my shit, he knows what kind of bread I eat and it’s right next to the shit he bought. His response was “Chill man, it’s only bread …”
I know that he is extremely picky about the beer he drinks and always keeps a six pack of his favorite in the fridge. To get my revenge I wait until he goes to work and I drink his entire six pack and replace it with a six pack of Natural Light. I lined the bottles up on the counter so he’d be sure to see them and waited.
He gets home a few hours later, puts his shit away, washes up, and walks to the fridge to get a beer.
He sees the bottles and yells, “Dude! You drank all my beer!”
I yell back, “Relax, I got you some more.” He opens the fridge, see’s the six pack of inferior beer, and storms into my room beer in hand.
“What the fuck is this shit!? This isn’t what I drink!” to which I reply, “Chill man, it’s just beer …”
TL;DR – Roommate ate my good bread and replaced it with crap so I drank all his good beer and replaced it with Natural Light.