16 Amazing Tales Of Food Revenge That’ll Leave You Cheering

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.



Can you fill this up all the way?


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.

Have you had enough?


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.

“You missed one.”


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.

Pop-Tart monster


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.


The pizza box


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!

20 garlic wings


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.



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.

Back off my register clerk!


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.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”


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.

The sushi thief 


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.

Co-pettiness at the grocery line


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.

Pizza blacklist


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.

2-oz cashews


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.

Maple syrup


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.

It’s a little too much for me


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.

Thanksgiving dinner and a $250 revenge


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.

Fuck it, I like M&M’s


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.


The 10 Pettiest Food Stories The Internet Has To Offer


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.


1. Chocolate Milk


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.


2. Five-finger discount

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.


3. Half a Dr. Pepper

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.”


4. Never. Eat. My. Goddamn. Spaghetti. 


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.

You motherfucker.

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.


5. This round’s on me.

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.


6. How was dinner?


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.



7. No cake for you.

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.


8. This is what a quarter gets you. 

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.”

Cashier: “Ok.”

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.


9. Jerky jerk


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.


10. Yeasty

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.