"When we were kids, we were staying at the seaside on holiday with our family. My little sister would always make a pretty sandcastle, and the next day it would have been kicked down and she'd cry. We wanted to find out who was doing it, so one day we stayed behind to spy.
We watched as a bunch of older boys came by and kicked her castle down, laughing smugly.
So the next night, we covered a big beach rock in the sand and decorated it.
Like clockwork, the jerk kids came with their smug faces and this time kicked a solid rock with all of their might. The yowl and the look on their faces was the best revenge ever."
"The elementary school that my kids attended had serious parking issues. There were very few available parking spots so the school decided they would put two front row spots up for auction. The winner would have a reserved parking spot for the entire school year. I won a spot and the school even put up a 'RESERVED for (me)' sign.
One day, I arrived to pick up my kids and someone was parked in MY spot. He was sitting in their car so I got out of mine and knocked on their window and told him that he was parked in my reserved spot and could they please move. He refused. So I blocked him in and went to get my kids and we took our sweet time gathering coats and lunchboxes and of course I needed to discuss things with their teachers and the whole time, I could see the jerk in my spot getting angrier and angrier but there was nothing he could do and no way for him to exit the parking spot.
Other parents kept going up to them to tell them they were parked in someone's reserved spot and just about every kid who went by yelled, 'That's not your parking spot!' and now the parking offender was the center of a lot of unwanted attention which made him pretty angry. He got out and complained to the principal who instead read him the riot act.
I still kept him trapped for about another 15 minutes as I wasn't in a hurry to be anywhere and there wasn't anything he could do about it."
"I was on a transatlantic flight and was sitting on the first row of the plane. The woman next to me had a baby in a crib and a small child. She sat on the opposite end of the row from me and sat her toddler right next to me leaving an empty seat between her and her kid. I had no issue with any of it until the food arrived and the child started moving around a lot and kicking my computer and was making it impossible for me to eat.
I asked her politely to do something about this and her reply was that it is known that those seats are for people with children. I was so angry I couldn't eat. I took my tiny airplane bottle to the bathroom and filled it up with water. Then I waited. When she took the kid to the toilet I proceeded to pour the water on the seat next to me.
They came back and after 10 minutes the kid said to the mother that he is wet. She sat the child in the other seat and put a towel on the wet seat and sat there. Didn't say a word to me. I think I slept the rest of the flight. Eff people that can't parent and feel like the rest of us need to also deal with their terrible mistakes. She knew the kid was going to move around a lot and she chose not to sit next to him but wanted a complete stranger to endure this for 10 hrs."
"My mother-in-law has a habit of showing up a day earlier than agreed upon. We've had to cancel plans because of her shenanigans.
When our kids were younger one day my husband made plans with my mother-in-law and told her repeatedly that he and I were busy the day before. Two days before the agreed visit she messages saying she's excited to see us 'tomorrow,' hubby reminds her 'Saturday, we're busy tomorrow.'
Anyway, Friday happens. Hubby goes to a work event and is unable to be contacted most of the day. My plans are cancelled due to one of the kids throwing up. Nap time rolls around, I settle the kids down and go to enjoy some quiet internet time when there's a knock at the door. We don't open the lounge blinds a lot because of nosy apartment neighbors, so I was safe from sight. I checked the peephole in case it was the postman, but nah, it was my mother-in-law in all her annoying glory.
I silently deadbolt the door, sneak to the back door and check the locks. Then I snuggled into my bed with my kids, to keep them calm in case the knocking woke them. I checked the peephole after an hour and saw her sulking on the front step clearly trying to reach hubby on the phone.
Except I had messaged him 'your mom is here, I'm ignoring her,' so he knew why she was calling and ignored her completely. She finally left just before the kids woke from their nap.
The next day when she arrived she asked what I did the day before and I said 'Nothing, I was home all day.'"
"When I was about ten years old I lived in the depths of North Saint Paul, MN. We used to ride our crappy bikes with friends all over the place.
One day we were peddling down this back alley behind all the main street businesses. Generally, there was zero traffic on a road like this but that day this huge brand new extended cab pickup comes flying out of nowhere barreling down on us and honking. The guy is yelling swears out the window and everything as we peddle out of the way onto the sides. He stomps the gas and speeds off and not a block later pulls into the back of a building's lot.
We eventually peddle our way up there and see his truck parked by a loading dock with no one in sight. Collectively we all hated the person for how he treated us and our brain gears were spinning on the possibilities of revenge. At that moment one of the tag-a-longs of our group announces that he has to take a really bad dump. Light bulbs go off above all of our heads except his.
There is a dumpster nearby and a newspaper on the ground next to it. With very little convincing needed, he does the deed neatly on the paper. A massive 9-inch log that would have been impressive outright if not for the horrible stench with visible stink lines hovering around it. The group of us talk him into the next phase of the plan, with all of us as lookouts to ensure his absolute safety despite everyone on their bikes ready to book it at the drop of the turd itself. He climbs on the hood of the pickup truck with one hand holding the newspaper and the other slowly pawing forward for grip until he reached the windshield. Then, on two knees, and double handing the underside of the newspaper, he splats it on the windshield and swipes in a big arc across.
It was as if the truck had a single wiper for the entire windshield and left a perfect 9-inch wave from one side to the other. The turd itself was only half used up in the process and sat angrily on the other side from where he started. At that moment someone yells RUN! and we all scramble out of the back lot and down the road. Peddling on back trails near the freeway frontage roads and the like, we left no trace for us to be found. An hour later we doubled back following these trails and enjoying the little jumps and tree roots as amateur biker kids do and came across another group of kids on bikes.
Man, did they have a story to tell about a huge, angry, red-faced man driving all over the neighborhood looking for a group of kids on bikes. It's been about 30 years and I still laugh at the memory, but I also hold the lesson close to heart about not treating kids like crap for no reason. They will get ya back if they can."
"I was in college, and somehow this guy got my phone number, I'll call him Steve.
Steve texts me about getting together as his very first text. Naive me had to ask him what that even meant, and he very carefully spelled it out for me. So I told him no, sorry you got that impression about me, but I'm not interested.
Steve immediately starts blowing up my phone (10 texts a minute), calling me all kinds of terrible names and threatening me that he is going to tell everyone how 'easy' I am, telling me that I'm ugly and he didn't want to sleep with me anyway. Basically being obnoxious and butt-hurt.
Finally, I'd had enough.
I texted him back, 'Oh, I'm sorry, I was playing hard to get. What are you doing tonight?'
He took the bait.
I told him I was going to go to the basketball game on campus, and when I got back I would come over to his place.
I screenshot all his nasty messages and sent them to the president of the fraternity he was rushing (whom I was friends with), and the head of student affairs (with whom I was friends).
I turned my phone off, locked the door to my dorm and went to bed. I woke up to 500 missed calls/voicemails/text messages. I didn't respond to any.
I never saw that guy again. Apparently, he was not allowed to rush. And when they started investigating further, it turns out he'd been harassing multiple women. He was kicked out of school and apparently moved to Florida. No one ever questioned me or even asked for any more evidence from me. Apparently, mine was just the icing on an already very big cake."
"A mean girl at high school spread rumors and made other girls afraid to ask me out after I rejected her in front of everyone. I had never even flirted with her or even hung out with her friends. They were the gossipy, drama, pregnant by senior year type of girls. However, they were really popular.
I was a poor kid who lost his house and my mom couldn't even afford to feed us every day. It was kinda out there - lots of people knew how my family lost our stuff. However, apparently I was really cute and there was a bunch of girls who would give me food or candy in hopes that I would be their boyfriend. Sometimes those gifts would be the only food I ate all day. That all ended the day she asked me out and I said no. None of the other girls dared to talk to me because that group of nasty girls would ruin their lives. I was constantly tormented by petty rumors, trashed stuff, and insults.
So, I decided to graduate school early and joined the military. Then I went to college, got an engineering degree and a good job. I went back home and out to eat, only to run into one of her friends pretending that what they did was just friendly teasing. I politely walked away when I saw her - that chick who made high school a living disaster.
She flags me down like we were old buddies and tells me that she's holding various raffles and sports 'numbers' for the playoffs. Then invites me out to her house. I wanted to curse her out then and there but I see she has her kids with her. So I take the flier and drop by to scope out the place. Then I called the state attorneys about illegal gambling activities. Then I proceeded to call child protective services about her allowing underage drinking at her football parties. Then I called various other agencies about other violations.
That nasty chick's mugshot appears in the newspaper a few weeks later."
"My sister, having just moved out of the house, was living with her now ex-best friend and her now ex-boyfriend (two different people, for the record). The trailer they rented was super crappy, with cockroaches and gross, peeling paint. But, the landlord was sweet and it was cheap, so she stayed.
During her time there, she had wallpapered some rooms, painted others, and overall drastically improved the trailer - with permission from the landlord, of course.
The most drastic change they did, however, is when my sister and mother tiled the counters. It was just cheap peel and stick tiles, but when it was grouted down it looked beautiful, and it, plus all of the other approved changes they made, made the trailer worth significantly more.
Well, eventually the tensions between her best friend and her rose, and her and her boyfriend had a nasty falling out, so she moved out.
My sister went to her new landlord (the previous one had sold it off after my sister made all the upgrades) for the deposit.
The new landlord said no, she didn't know if my sister had damaged the home since she acquired the property after the fact. My sister said the old landlord didn't think she had. New landlord said no. My sister showed them before and after pictures. The landlord still said no.
Now, the deposit wasn't an insignificant amount, and my sister was, quite frankly, ticked. She told my mother, and my mother was also really ticked - all of the work and stress my sister did, and now she was being refused what was rightly hers, and she didn't like the fact that the new landlord was getting a significantly better property than they did before, with all the work done for free.
Well, if they wanted to keep the deposit, they were going to give them a reason to.
They still had the keys to the house. So, my mother and my sister went back to the trailer and spent the next two hours painstakingly chipping up every last bit of the beautiful tiled counter, leaving the dust and debris scattered all over the kitchen. My sister talked about wanting to rip down the new wallpaper, but ultimately they decided to leave it at that and to not press their luck."
"I was at my mom's for Christmas Eve one year with my husband.
I was pregnant and she had been getting on my nerves because she micromanages the holidays and the adult siblings just wanted to relax. She also had a brand-new iPhone and I knew her password.
I set her alarm to come on every hour on the hour starting at midnight and stopping at 7 am. I also changed the alarm tone every hour. One was a dog barking, which set off her two poodles for almost 45 minutes before the next alarm went off 15 minutes later.
It was the best feeling in the world to hand over her phone after setting up those alarms, knowing what was going to happen. It's one of my most cherished memories."
"When I was about six or seven, there was this five-year-old who lived down and across the street from my house. I'd sometimes see him at our local playground and for whatever reason, he liked to pick on me. Now, when I say that, I don't mean to say he bullied me or that I saw him as a bully. He was a kindergartener and I was probably twice his size. He didn't hurt my feelings---he just annoyed the living snot out of me, for months, which seems like years in the eyes of a first-grader.
The thing that I hated the most was that he'd call me 'baby JD' (my family nickname growing up was JD, and it's how all my friends knew me). He wouldn't just toss it at the end of any old sentence as a normal person would. He would repeat it, over and over. Chanting, singing, taunting me endlessly until I was too frustrated to stick around and went home. He always seemed to ruin the fun.
But one day, I grew a spine. I was on the swings, all on my own, hoping for one of my friends to come outside and play. All of a sudden, I saw a figure turn the corner around my house, riding a training-wheeled bicycle---it was him. The already-grey Washington sky seemed to turn darker.
He rolled up to the swing set and we exchanged pleasantries. We were children; we weren't savages. But hardly a minute had passed before it began: 'Baby JD! Baby JD! Baby JD!'
I lost my patience. I swung hard and leaped off of the swing, landing hard on the mulch, feet from where he stood. He backed up to put some space between us, but I stomped a foot in his direction.
Now, I wasn't actually going to hurt the kid, I just wanted to scare him a little before I took the familiar trek home. And in fact, I didn't hurt him, not enough to warrant tears anyway. But what I did do was interrupt his balance. He toppled to the ground hands and feet flailing.
My instinct took over. My eyes trained on his feet, which I noticed were suddenly bare. There, sitting atop the mulch, was a pair of sandals. I'd literally startled him out of his shoes. So I did what any sensible kid would do and picked them up before walking in the opposite direction.
Immediately, he was back on his feet, screaming bloody murder about his shoes. He ran after me, but I held the flip-flops out of his reach. He didn't dare throw a punch, because he and I both knew that wasn't a fight he was likely to win.
Eventually, I grew tired of toying with him, and his unending screaming was starting to annoy me as much as 'baby JD' did. I noticed we were standing under one of those big roofs-on-columns, the kind with concrete floors and no walls. I backed slowly out from under the roof and he inched toward me, keeping his distance. I held the shoes out as if to offer them to him, and he lunged. But he was too slow.
The clouds, it seemed, had parted. Sunlight engulfed the playground.
I gave all my strength. The sandals were in the air. We were both still as they spun through the daylight as if propelled by an invisible dancer. An eon passed, and soon they too hung in the air motionless.
And then they began to fall. My aim would need to be absolutely precise, the winds exactly in my favor, the angle of descent perfect and exact.
Seven feet from the ground, a dull 'thud' echoed through the air. Two small sandals had landed flat on the angle of the roof. The judges held up their 10s, the crowd went wild, the sun smiled down on my triumph.
And then the silence of the park was broken by a blood-curdling shriek.
I imagine I must've left a me-shaped cloud of dust in my wake. But I'd never been prouder.
I can't even remember the kid's name, but his sobbing still brings me warm joy on bad days."
"An uncle of mine was a serious addict and an all-around jerk. When I was a kid it was pretty common for him to steal from my grandparents, including a lot of things they intended to give me when I was older (a coin collection, things like that). There's a long list of things he did over the course of my life to tick me off, but I'll skip to the petty revenge.
I was browsing the local county website and noticed there was a section for active warrants. I wondered if any familiar names were listed so I browsed it and to my complete lack of surprise, I saw my uncle's name listed for something minor. Then I saw the Crime Stoppers number at the top of the page. I knew where he was living at the time and it was anonymous, so what the heck? I called, described him and told them where he was. They gave me a reference number and told me to call back in two weeks.
For the sake of being thorough, I called a relative from the other side of the family who, funny enough, was not only a cop but also in charge of following up on these things. I told him the situation and he said he'd prioritize it.
Two weeks later I call Crime Stoppers for an update and they said the tip did indeed lead to an arrest and asked which post office I preferred. I was confused but I named one. They gave me an alias, told me to give that name to the clerk and there would be a general delivery envelope with $200 cash inside. That part was unexpected but a sweet bonus for sure.
Easiest $200 I ever made."
"This one was truly petty. My dad was driving and we came upon a construction truck driving the other way with a crew in back placing cones in the center of the road as they slowly drove, just preparing for some work. My dad slowed down and offered some criticism of how they're putting the cones down. I don't even remember what, maybe the cones were a bit far into our lane or something. The construction guy wasn't having it and the conversation got a bit heated, dude gives Dad a 'eff you.'
'Eff me? No, eff you,' responded the construction worker.
That was more than enough for dad. He proceeded to run over cones for an entire mile.
Now I would have thought that they would have just gotten a little flattened but the tire was actually throwing them behind the vehicle and frequently a lot to the left or right. Some were thrown completely off the road, all of them were just all over the place.
He was a narcissist. This isn't even remotely the worst or most petty thing he did, it's just one I was there for."
"My friend did some work for a guy who skipped his bill and never paid him. My friend is very petty and he did many things.
Things such as:
-Placed fake for sale ads with 'too good of a deal,' like a nice boat for $1000, and other numerous ads with the guy's number.
-Our city is big on garage sales. He posted ads like 'moving out sale, everything must go, cheap! Will be held inside the house, just walk in or ring the doorbell' and put this guy's address on the ad.
-He also signed him up for numerous 'free gym memberships' and responded to things like car dealership ads with this guy's phone number.
He did a lot more, that's just what I can remember. I don't know who I feel sorrier for."
"I was grounded, yet again, by my angry dad for breathing while his ballgame was on. I was stuck in my bedroom, bored witless. For something to do, I flicked the light switches on and off. It was then I discovered that this made a loud buzzing static interference on the TV in the lounge.
Cue the next 5 years of petty revenge.
My angry dad never figured out why we had such a bad TV signal at game time and he never connected it with me being sent to my room and flicking the light switch every few minutes, reveling as he yelled futilely at the static dancing across the TV.
He definitely had two sides to him - the good: not a drinker, steady job, kept us fed and housed. The bad - utterly self-absorbed, sporadically violent and angry emperor of a small, glum suburban enclave. But like many dads I guess..."