47 Times Someone Crossed The Wrong Person And Immediately Regretted It

When I lived in the city an older lady about 90 got her apt robbed in my building. They went in a stole all her cash and took some valuables that she had. She did not have a bank account so the thieves took about 30K the ladies life savings. She was afraid of being evicted for the apt because she wouldn't have the rent money and did not want to end up in a state run nursing home. I called the landlord and paid her rent in full for the rest if the year, five months worth and told the landlord not to tell her it was me. I also had groceries delivered to her once a week for the next two months until she had some money saved from her social security checks. I never told anyone what I had done for her and I don't think she even knew my name because the apt building had about 50 apartments in it. The landlord was I only one who knew and he wanted to tell her what I was doing but I told him that I would deny it. I did not want her to feel indebted to me. She posted a letter in the lobby of the building to thank who ever had helped her. I took the letter down and kept it. The landlord still writes to me every few months to tell me how she is doing. She is still living in the apt seven years later. I never told any one.

Ok, not me but my mom, and I love this story.

She used to be an exploratory geologist for a big oil company back in the 70s/80s. Then the oil market crashed in the late 80s and she got downsized. I don't know all the details, but apparently it was really shady the way things went down and she doesn't think she was treated fairly.

Fast forward to about a year ago, I was riding in the car with her and she had to stop at the bank to make a deposit. To save time, she gave me the checks to write up the deposit slips. One of the checks was for about $0.62. I asked her about it and apparently she gets that check every month, in perpetuity, as her severance package. And here's the petty part: every so often, she'll get a settlement offer (nothing huge, but like $1000 or so) to stop the monthly payments, but she always rejects the settlement, even though it would be more money that way, just to make the company keep paying postage to send her $0.62 a month. I guess this has been going on since the late 80s.

It's my favorite story about my mom. It's the perfect way to explain her particular type of temper. Her siblings all have really quick, hot tempers but they get over it really quickly. My mom almost never loses her cool, but when she does she will never forget it.

Put a Cheeto puff in my horrible ex mother-in-law's hair and let her walk around a restaurant/bar with it sitting atop her high hair.

When I quit my job and moved to a different state, my s****y boss wanted my apartment, and asked me to put in a good word with my landlord. I put in a word alright. I told my landlord he could keep my deposit if he did NOT give my apartment to my boss.

He didn’t keep my deposit. But he also hated my boss so he didn’t give him the apartment lol.

I grew up with an a*****e stepfather who did all kinds of screwed up stuff. One notable example was that he would pound on the door if I took more than 30 seconds to use the bathroom and scream at me to "stop j*rking off in there!". This started when I was 6 and continued until I was 15 and he ditched my mom for someone else... By that time I was j*cking off in the bathroom.... In his shampoo specifically.

My ex cheated on me after 3 years together for some guy she met in the army. It broke my heart because i was madly in love with her. This happen because her a*****e parents she reconnected with spent all their time telling her I was holding her back, I was telling people i was single (a form had single or married as the only options at my dentist and her mother was there when I was answering), etc.

She Broke up with me in a brutal way saying she hates me after i spent months trying to fix everything she said was wrong with me and us. After that she got crazy petty with me.

She had me get all her stuff everything she owned and box it up and keep saying if I took anything she'd know. She said her parents are coming for her stuff and they will be going through it and she gave them a list of items that are sentimental to me but have a cash value and to leave it in the drive. I did. I left everything. Every last item. Including the photos of me and her doing very inappropriate stuff. Hey, she said "don't take anything".

This is the pettiest thing I’ve done in my life and I’m almost 40. In 3rd grade my teacher was named Mrs. Good. She was anything but kind or nice. One of those ladies that chose their profession to control children. One day we did a class project where we made baked goods as a class. Each student was given the opportunity to take a turn using the beaters to blend the batter. Unbeknownst to my teacher, I had spent most weekends baking with my mom and knew not to tilt the hand held beater unless you wanted spray all over the wall.

Eventually it was my turn and Mrs. Good was being extra cruel that day. I walked over to the table where Mrs. Good, the batter bowl and the beaters were. I took the beaters and turned them on and held them for a minute, blending the ingredients. I then tilt the beaters and proceed to spray Mrs good with batter from head to waist. She was livid. Little 8 year old me apologized profusely. She closed her eyes and said “just go” while pointing me in the direction of my assigned seat. I remember turning around and just letting a big a*s smile loose once she couldn’t see and I walked back to my seat. I regret nothing. F**k you Mrs. Good.

One of my former bosses was an unholy nightmare to work with. Her principal rival owned a chain of ice cream shops. So whenever she really pissed me off, I'd go buy ice cream at one of his establishments just to spite her. It was the most delicious form of pettiness.

In college, one of housemates bailed on us and fled the state. All for a dude she met. Refused to pay rent and had the guy try to bully us into letting her out of her debt.

I started boxing up her stuff into as many boxes as possible. Sometimes I added "things" to the box to make it weigh more. I addressed the boxes and started dumping them into mailboxes with no postage. It took weeks, as I'd mail them on trips or running errands.

Later heard she paid nearly twice the amount in postage that she owed me in rent and utilities.

When my ex-husband moved out, I'm the one that packed everything in the house for him to just come pickup. I packed each wire/part of his gaming PC in a different box.

I drank a half-gallon of iced coffee because of one unappreciative lady at work.

I should start at the top of the "coffee has turned me into a bitter shell of myself" story though. See, I like coffee. I drink it every morning before I leave for work and I drink more once I'm at work. The problem is, as is the problem in many a large call center, people would finish the coffee and not start more because they are selfish a******s. My sub-department discusses this and someone suggests we have our own coffee pot (we'd still have to keep it in the break room but we could label it) and just make coffee for us. I say I'm going to Walmart anyway and can pick up a pot if people chip in. Coolio. So I get coffee and powdered creamer that isn't awful and a coffee pot and the next day I get us all set up. It becomes apparent pretty immediately that I'm the only one making coffee for everyone. I deal with this for a while but it bothers me. Then the night people stop cleaning it out at the end of the day and I have to start cleaning it before I leave so it doesn't mold. My manager gets a carafe for the coffee when people start taking it from the breakroom despite the label, so now I have two things to clean every day. I begin to resent the coffee pot and my coworkers but if I don't make coffee I won't have any so I continue. We have layoffs and that day someone steals the coffee pot. I am reimbursed by management and pick up a pitcher to use with the brewer the floor uses to fill the carafe. It's a process, but whatever. We have a little table set up for the creamers and carafe so we don't have to leave stuff in the breakroom to be stolen, but it quickly gets messy as people are leaving empty creamer containers and knocking over full ones without bothering to wipe it up. I start bringing coffee with me to work, for myself.

Now, the coworker. She'll say she's appreciative but she has this infuriating habit of waiting until I'm walking past, stretching, and saying to 'nobody' "I wish we had coffee." I ignore her. But one day I do something I only do on rare occasions for a team treat and bring in a pitcher of my cold-brewed caramel macadamia nut iced coffee. I want to say the pitcher is about half a gallon, and as I'm walking in for the day she sees it and has the nerve to say "Oh good, I was worried you wouldn't be making coffee today." I wordlessly walk to my desk, pitcher in hand, pull out my mug, and drink the entire d**n thing myself.

Worked at a vet clinic. It was a slow day and I was sent out to clean up trash and debris around the parking lot. At the end of the day as I'm walking to my car someone drove past and threw trash out of their window onto the curb I spent all day cleaning and sweeping. I picked it up and got in my car and followed them to their house. Walked up to their driver side window and told them I watched them do it. They denied it (of course) so I threw the trash back into their car window and left.

When I was in the Navy, as the low man on the totem pole one of my jobs was brewing coffee for the wardroom and fetching a cup of it for the Captain before every brief and meeting. The guy was an unbearable p***k, as were many of the more senior officers. So when I was particularly pissed off with him, I'd brew decaf into the regular coffee pot and serve that to him.

We were also required to call him in the middle of the night to report a variety of circumstances and conditions on the ship. Some of these things were so important that they had to be reported immediately, and others were routine and could wait a while. Most people collected the routine reports and made them all together when we had to call him for something important. I would space that s**t out and call him as many times as possible throughout the night. My favorite was calling him exactly 20 minutes before he had to wake up anyway. F**k that guy.

When my ex broke up with me and I came to gather up my things from his place I took every roll of toilet paper because I’d purchased it. Didn’t leave him with a single square. Hope he enjoyed his s**t that day.

My wonderful MIL was suffering from brain cancer in 2013/2014. Her alcoholic piece of s**t boyfriend (who actively discouraged her from remaining active and staying healthy throughout her treatment) was very drunk when we went to visit her one day, and started bragging about 'his' beautiful pictures of MIL he had. Brought them out of a hiding spot and showed us; It was a handful of photos of MIL throughout the years he just decided to take for himself from her personal photo albums. He drunkenly crammed 'his pictures' back into a cabinet before wandering away to be pathetic...so I took them. Told *no one* until a few days later. He never knew what happened and she passed shortly afterwards. There's about 7 photos of her just being beautiful and lovely, and her sons' (my husband and BIL) are FAR more deserving of them. I will NEVER feel bad for that. Ever.

I'm not always kind, but I'm fair. F**k you Gary.

In 7th grade, I was quite unpopular and bullied a lot. Our class was a large one. So, in wood shop, we had to share lockers for our projects in progress. The girl who ended up assigned to share with me got her friends to gang up on me to tell me that I wasn't allowed to keep my project in our shared locker. I ended up carrying my project pieces to and from my actual locker across the school every other day.

Fast forward to 12th grade. Homecoming court elections were happening, and it was basically an open ballot situation, where the juniors and seniors wrote in their choices for Homecoming court. As it turns out, I was the last member of the court. I was really flattered, but was going to turn it down because I had signed up for my SATs and they were the morning after the Homecoming parade/game and the morning of the dance. It was my 3rd go at the SATs and I knew it was my last chance to get the scores I was striving for before applying to colleges, so I didn't want any distractions before then. Plus, I was scheduled to work the night of the dance.

The girl who I was supposed to share the locker with in 7th grade threw a huge fit in one of the girls' restrooms because she lost to me by 5 votes. She had really wanted to be on court, I guess. The news of her fit (and the many names she supposedly called me in that fit) reached me soon enough.

You can guess what happened next: I froze my a*s off in a spaghetti strap dress on a cold, October evening in northern Pennsylvania, reviewing vocabulary flashcards at a football game. But I was happy to do it. I'd do it again.

My ex-husband broke up with me for another woman, but we still lived together for a while because I was unemployed and looking for a new job. During this time, I still "kept house" and did things like sweeping, dishes, laundry, etc. while looking for a new job because he was still technically supporting me.

His new girlfriend had given him a hoodie from his favorite band. I was in charge of laundry. Someone at Goodwill got an almost-brand new sweatshirt.

I got tired of my husband taking off his clothes and throwing it in the hamper inside out, when i fold our laundry it takes way more time and makes my arms tired having to flip all his clothes right side out again before putting them away, so now I just put his clothes away inside out. I have zero regrets, I save time and arm strength.

One of my first jobs was in a clothing store, and no one really liked our manager, as she tended to not give clear instructions and expected someone who had been there for a month (part time too) to work as fast as someone who's been there 6 years. One day she starts loudly berating me in front of customers. I find it completely acceptable to receive valid criticism, I just wish that the manager gave me the courtesy of doing it in private. I quit the job soon after for unrelated reasons (moving to another continent), but I left an anonymous "customer" complaint of how I found it uncomfortable as a "customer" hearing a manager yelling at an employee and that I felt bad for the poor girl.

Went a community service group in high school to hang out with my friends. Turns out there is a girl I despise in the same group. She voted not to do a certain project because she thought it was dumb. I proceeded to get floor layouts of the school, group kids into teams, and meticulously plan the entire event. I then contacted local radio stations and printed out fliers to make sure it would be wildly successful.

The next week when the group met, I had everything in a folder, and brought up the idea again. The girl said it would be too much work, whereupon I through down the folder, and said "I've done everything already, you just have to say 'yes'". I was cheered on, she never showed her face there again.

Oh yeah, we raised money for kids or something too.