PRAAAA!
Whats up my people, my name is Spicey and
today I have 3 Stories coming out of the subreddit
Pro Revenge.
As you know already, once we reach the 2500
subscribers mark, I will be giving away 4
Amazon gift cards of either $25 or $50, or
maybe 8 cards of $10 each who knows!
So make sure you’re subscribed to the channel
to stay tuned when the giveaway will happen.
If you’re having fun here, drop a fire emoji
in the comments and like this video, it helps
me grow the channel.
Congratulation Foch for the comment of the
day.
PRAA
Won't pay for a lock change?
OK, we won't pay for your housing.
I'm in a state of two minds about whether
this is r/ProRevenge or r/pettyrevenge but
it had pretty big consequences for the person
involved so I thought I would post here.
I work in a customer service centre in a local
authority where I mainly deal with calls regarding
booking in repairs for our council tenants.
Things like dripping taps, no heating, etc.
A woman calls in and tells me that she has
lost the keys to her house and cant get in,
I go through the usual process of getting
up her address and explaining I can have someone
out there in a couple hours to change the
locks (due to property being unsecure).
The woman is nice enough at first but then
completely flips as soon as I tell her that
she will be charged for the repair due to
her having lost the keys rather than them
being stolen.
She begins a tirade of swearing and demands
that the work is done for free as she is on
housing benefit and cant afford it as well
as that it was actually her lodger who lost
the keys and not her.
After informing her she would still have to
pay and a couple more minutes of shouting
and swearing, she hangs up.
I now have a few precious minutes to myself
with no other calls where my brain stews on
what just happened.
I often deal with angry tenants but they are
for matters I understand such as waiting for
a long time for something which should have
happened ages ago, not for paying for a lock
change due to your own forgetfulness.
It clicks and I know how to get my revenge.
The woman calls back again as I expected she
would but rather than go through to repairs,
she goes through to switchboard.
As we are in the same room and about 2 meters
apart, I can hear their conversation and know
instantly that it's the same woman.
The guy on switchboard says he needs to put
her through to repairs but she wont let him
due to being told she will have to pay and
wants to speak to someone else.
I mime to him to put her on hold and explain
to him that he should call our tenancy department
(responsible for all tenants and their housing)
and should very clearly explain she is on
housing benefit and her lodger lost her key.
He calls tenancy who ask him to confirm she
has a lodger and after doing so ask him to
put her through for them to speak to her and
I knew I had gotten my revenge.
For clarification: Housing benefit is to help
you pay for your housing as you can't afford
it.
One obvious rule is that you can't have a
lodger as you are obviously then earning additional
income on top of your job to pay for your
rent and so shouldn't be getting benefit.
The member of the tenancy department obviously
realised this and I would say it is very likely
that the tenant is having their status reviewed
and could very well have her benefits cancelled...
...all because she wouldn't pay for a lock
change.
Dock my pay, Lose yours
Originally posted to r/pettyrevenge but maybe
it's more suited for this sub as people suggested.
I worked for a small
company that repaired stained glass windows
for churches, universities, government and
historical buildings domestically and abroad.
Some high profile jobs too.
Anyway there weren't too many employees, some
studio associates, and three managers (one
being myself) who oversaw different aspects
of the operation.
The owner, aka drunk bitch, was an awful awful
human being.
Constantly lying to customers, saying she
needed to order replacement glass for the
job which cost $XXXX but in reality she would
buy way cheaper materials or already have
said material that had been sitting for decades,
unused.
One day she informed me that I had broken
a piece of glass about 12"x12" she valued
at $500 (this will be important shortly).
It is in fact true that pieces of stained
glass can run that much or even more.
But I knew for a fact how much this piece
cost, because two weeks prior, she made me
drive 6 hours round trip to pick it up, and
I saw the fucking invoice (a 3'x3' sheet cost
about $60, cheap stuff).
After picking it up, I drove it to the drunk
bitch's personal art studio at her house around
2 PM.
She was wasted, her teeth crimson with her
shitty homemade wine.
She "gifted" us a bottle for Christmas one
year.
It was like someone rubbed grapes on their
sweaty asshole and stood over a bottle, drip
drip drip, cork, gifts!
I get off track I apologise.
So I show up, she's wasted midday and she
makes me unload a total of about $5000 of
stained glass that she bought "for the company"
into her personal art studio.
She stumbles as she's showing me where to
put it, and in the process messes up a setting
that took about two months to place.
Fucking slob.
Two weeks later she says I broke a piece of
glass worth about $500, like I said earlier,
and she then informs me that I would be deducted
the amount from my paycheck (she would miss
paychecks like she missed her mouth after
the second bottled of wine).
So not only was I not getting my full paycheck
but it would almost definitely be days later
when she decided to show up and hand us our
checks.
I wasn't going to let her get away with this,
and I certainly wasnt going to quit before
I could get my revenge.
Lucky for me, we put the invoices in a wall
folder for her to reconcile when she decides
to stumble in.
The invoice was still in the folder so when
she left for her siesta, I took it out, photocopied
it, and put the original back.
The next day she showed up.
(two days in a row?!
Her wine cache must have been low.
It happened every now and then.)
She hands me my paycheck minus $700.
I knock on her office door and ask her "drunk
bitch, my paycheck is $700 short, do you know
what happened?"
"You broke a priceless piece of glass PHB,
I had to pay for it somehow."
Here's where the revenge comes in.
I manage the materials coming in and out of
the shop.
I know what we need, how much we use, what
we use it for, and all orders for future materials
for future jobs.
*Friday at 4:45 - closing time is 5
"Drunk bitch, what glass?"
"The xxxx pane that you picked up"
"There is no xxxx pane here"
"The one you brought to my house"
"Oh, I thought that that was your personal
material, because if it was for the company
and paid for ising the company's money, you
would have made me bring it here"
"I work from home, that's why I made you bring
it to my house"
"Drunk bitch, oh okay, it's just I know the
current jobs we have going on, and all future
jobs, and not one requires ANY of the material
you bought for the shop"
"How I spend my money isn't your concern"
(Actually it's literally the definition of
my job)
Cue Monday morning.
I don't show up because I know she isn't going
to be there after a weekend bender.
I call the Dept of labor and explain that
I have been docked wages illegally and falsely.
I then write the EPA and explain what I witnessed
at her personal art studio, ( illegal handling
and dumping of lead.
Lead came is what is used for stained glass
windows.)
I then write to the IRS and explain that she
is using company funds for personal expenses.
I walked in tge next day, told her I quit.
Found out she lost clients left and right
because of the issues, tried to sell the company
to the remaining employees to no avail, and
eventually just closed shop.
The Lawyer, The Fabulous, and The Geek
A few relatively unimportant details are fuzzed
to obscure identity as this ended up a Big
Deal.
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away,
I had just managed a promotion at work.
I was now a manager who managed managers at
a hotel of not insignificant renown.
This meant I was at that point where despite
having a boss above me in the same building,
I was the absolute highest person most guests
would ever talk to.
Unfortunately, that also meant I got to handle
the most noxious of people who were so insistent
their shit didn't stink that they wouldn't
pull their head out of their ass because it
smelled too nice in there.
One of our better corporate clients was a
law firm I will call Lawyer Factory.
On a regular basis we would have a new hire
from Lawyer Factory stay with us for one or
two months before they could find a suitable
apartment in the city.
Most of the new hires were slightly elitist
but not particularly bad sorts.
They would talk to front desk staff on occasion,
mostly to brag about their watch collection
or new Jaguar, but they would also give front
desk staff a few local sportsball team tickets
they got from the office.
The target of my revenge was a newly minted
lawboy who I will call Dylan as he looked
like the kind of guy you would expect to be
named Dylan.
Lawboy Dylan was very obviously new at the
game, as he would come down for breakfast
every day around 8:30 in a sweatshirt, jeans,
and stocking cap.
Part of our deal with Lawyer Factory meant
their recruits had breakfast included with
the room every day.
At first, Dylan was a fairly approachable
fellow, shaking hands with the front desk
staff and taking time to talk about the most
popular sportsball team in town who was a
favorite of everyone including yours truly.
Dylan and I had also spent a bit of time jawing
about a few video games and anime.
He was a causal fan, but it happened that
his brother in college was a hardcore fan
both of an obscure Asian online game and Dragon
Ball Z, both of which were my big nerd-out
spots.
Thanks to him, I met his brother in game and
fortune had it that we were both in guilds
which went boss hunting together on a regular
basis.
Of course, this wouldn't be a story about
revenge if Dylan was really a likable guy
all the time, now would it?
One day a few weeks into his stay, Dylan hit
the lobby early on Monday just before 6 am
looking for coffee and breakfast a bit early.
According to security footage, this is when
things started to break down.
He pulled on the restaurant door to no avail
as it would be locked for another ten minutes.
He pulled again with some frustrated mumbling
that couldn't be heard clearly.
It is also worth nothing that Dylan's breakfast
outfit plus a weekend without shaving left
him looking not entirely unlike a transient
man hoping to score some free coffee.
At this point, my night manager "Marcus" decided
to intervene.
Marcus is very reliable, very flamboyantly
gay, and very black, and he'd scold me for
only using one very for each of those.
Marcus asks Dylan for ID as proof that he
is a guest.
Somehow, this must have been the worst insult
Dylan has ever heard, as he decides this is
time to lash out in the worst way.
He started into a profanity laced tirade filled
with racial and homophobic slurs along with
rolling up his sleeve far enough to show a
Confederate battle flag tattoo to display
his contempt for Marcus.
While security footage didn't show this part,
Marcus also testified that Dylan reeked of
whiskey and cinnamon as if he had been pounding
Fireball since 5 pm the day before.
Marcus decided he wasn't going to have any
of this, stepped back and let one of our early
bird morning staff handle the issue.
When she stepped in, Dylan had no problem
procuring ID for her as well as an unsolicited
phone number.
By 8:00, Marcus was in my office venting about
how he wanted to "beat Dylan's ass like the
bitch he is" and unleashing other bits of
choice profanity.
I've got a rule when it comes down to troublesome
guests.
You can swear at me, you can hurl racial slurs
at me, you can say whatever you want, and
I'll still make it a point to provide the
best customer service possible.
Pull that shit with my staff and I'll toss
Business McMakebucks out on his ass.
Dylan went the latter route and he had to
go.
Well, as you might imagine, a lawyer being
informed that it was on him to find new accommodations
immediately did not go over well.
First he attempted to invoke tenant law which
was quickly shot down as he had not established
30 days of residency.
Second, he implied that his employer would
cease operations with us if he were evicted.
Considering we had offered them a sweetheart
deal far better than our rivals, this was
not particularly likely and never came to
fruition.
When all else failed, he turned to me and
begged me to not throw him out.
No dice, nobody calls my go-to night guy a
N-F- without consequences.
I'd like to say I was badass enough for him
to bolt in fear of me, but I wasn't and he
didn't.
However, he was pretty quick to shut up when
Officer Smiley came in and requested his cooperation.
First, I call "Katie" at Lawyer Factory HR.
Katie is one of the nicest ladies I've had
the pleasure of working with.
A quick discussion leads her to a decision
that Dylan has stepped over a line.
Within two weeks, Katie refused to acknowledge
anything beyond the fact that Dylan was not
employed at Lawyer Factory.
Next, I call the state bar association.
They are as tight lipped as expected, although
there was a clear air of exasperation from
the representative as if this wasn't the first
she had heard the name Dylan Lawboy.
Professional revenge is fine and dandy, but
insulting my crew and showing off proof of
being a treasonous son of a bitch in my hotel
asks for more.
Three weeks later, Dylan's brother is pulling
tank duty and I'm the King of Healz, bringing
the smack down on a goat demon.
His brother mentioned how Dylan had moved
back home after his employer "lost a client
and didn't need him anymore" and his potential
apartment was "not worth the trouble" after
all.
Seems not working as a lawyer means it's pretty
hard to make rent in a downtown loft.
Bro also mentioned that Mom told Dylan that
if he wanted to stay at home, he would "have
that terrible graffiti taken off his shoulder
immediately."
The aftermath included a lawsuit, a few discussions
with company legal, and a healthy dose of
Schadenfreude at a complete failure of his
claim of defamation.
The next hire from Lawyer Factory was a very
likable Samoan guy whose idea of flaunting
his wealth was buying pizza for the staff
and bringing it in while singing "You're Welcome"
from Moana.
Total goofball and easily my favorite lawyer
guest.
Last I heard from Bro, Dylan had a large tattoo
removal scar and a job as a paralegal.
Before I let you go away from the heat that
you just received, I want to thank you for
watching my videos.
Thank you, you, for liking the video, for
commenting, subscribing and even for those
who shares the videos.
This really help me a lot and I appreciate
what you do for me.
All of our efforts will ultimately allow me
to make better videos for you, I have a ton
of ideas but without support, I can’t get
to this point.
I wish you all a beautiful day, I hope you
are doing your best to reach your dreams,
live a fulfilled life, have fun and love the
people around you.
