rSlash - r/Maliciouscompliance Karen Gets Instant Karma!
Episode Date: September 3, 2020r/Maliciouscompliance In today's episode, a spoiled rich woman Karen thinks that she can put her gross hands all over the bread at a super market. OP calls her out on it, and of course the Karen freak...s out and demands to see a manager. The manager shows up, but he actually makes Karen buy all of the bread she touched in a moment of instant karma! If you like this content, follow my podcast for more daily Reddit content! 🔔 Subscribe: https://bit.ly/2E3A8i6 💬 Discord: https://discord.gg/VD6eYD3 🎧 Podcast: https://link.chtbl.com/rslash ⚓ Send me a voice message: https://anchor.fm/rslash 📸 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rslashyt/ ♪ TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@rslash0 🛒 Merch: http://bit.ly/rSlashMerch 🎁 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/rslash Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Welcome to R-Slasch, a podcast where I read the best posts from across Reddit.
Today's subreddit is R-Slasch and malicious compliance.
Our next Reddit posted from ZardQueen.
In college, I had a randomly assigned roommate that I did not get along with at all.
Our personalities were just on two opposite ends of the personality spectrum and we clashed.
The only things we had in common were that we went to the same college and lived in the
same apartment.
That's it.
Anyways, it was a nightmare living situation. The apartment
had four rooms and two bathrooms. She and I shared the same bathroom as our rooms were
right next to each other. We had two roommates on the other half of the apartment that we
both got along with. After over eight months of just pure passive aggressiveness towards
each other, like I would put sticky notes on her days old dirty dishes and she would put
my wet laundry on the floor.
She decided to report me to the apartment management for bullying her.
Honestly, we were doing it to each other.
However, the apartment management took pity on her because I was tall and athletic and she was six inches shorter than me and very thin.
She claimed I physically intimidated her and she was scared to live with me. She
did this because she wanted to move to a new apartment without paying a $500 fee, but
instead the apartment issued a written warning. The warning stated that we were not to touch
any of each other's personal belongings without written permission. The first infraction
was a $250 fine. The second infraction was a $500 fine. And a third infraction would result in a
fiction. I was so scared walking out of the office because I couldn't afford those fines,
and she had the biggest smile on her face. I knew that she would immediately report me.
I went back to the apartment and she left for work. I was mortified. Then I realized that
she made a huge mistake. Everything communal
in the apartment belonged to me, and she was a super moocher. I told my other roommates what
had happened, and they were shocked. I asked if I could use their bathroom temporarily, and they
said of course. So I immediately emptied out everything that was mine in our shared bathroom. Shower curtain, toilet paper, rug, towels, and soap.
I grabbed my magnetic whiteboard and listed out everything in the kitchen that belonged
to me.
Plates, cups, mugs, pots, pans, silverware, coffee maker, toaster, pot holder, towels.
I literally listed every single item.
And I said that she wasn't allowed to use any of it without my written
permission. No text messages allowed. I also drew some eyes to remind her that everyone was watching.
I popped that whiteboard on the fridge and went in my room to do some homework. Later, she came
home from work and had a mill down. She screamed. Not any words, just a blood-curdling scream.
In the following couple of days, her father came to the apartment to threaten me that they
were getting a lawyer.
She bought her first roll of toilet paper and plastic shower curtain, but it was too much
for her to handle.
She went back to the main office to report my bullying once again, and was instead told
that she could either deal with it or pay 500 bucks to move to a new apartment.
She moved out seven days after the warning was issued. Our next reddit postage from Gipresh.
So I'm a college student and I rent a room from a landlord living a house with multiple other students.
The contract for my room clearly says that I have to fix all the damages to my room that I've caused at my cost
and that all the bigger issues in the house will be covered by the landlord. Well, one day I noticed that my sink is kind of clogged and it's making
a weird noise. He says that it's probably my own fault and that I should get a plunger
to fix the problem. A little background info about the house that I live in, all the
sinks at the top level of the house connect to the same pipe, and everyone heard the same
noise. So the chance of it being my fault will be almost
zero. But since I had to fix the problem on my own, I tried my best. However, as you might
have guessed, I'm not really good at this since it's not my job. I even had my dad check it since
he knows more about this stuff than I do. And he said the pipe is clogged somewhere, but doesn't
know exactly how far down the pipe.
So I tried my best to fix the problem myself, but since it's clearly a bigger issue that
isn't my fault, I contacted my landlord once again.
He still refuses to come and fix the clogs sink.
Even after me clearly stating that everyone is hearing the noise in the house, and tells
me to solve my own problems like an adult would.
Well, since I'm legally not an adult yet and having tried my best,
mainly the other residents in the house had decided to give up trying to fix the issue and just let it be.
A month later, one person in the house had water coming out of her sink because it was completely clogged.
And within days, everyone was having the same issue.
And since now everyone was complaining
to the landlord, he had to fix the problem, since it was a bigger problem within the house
that everyone was experiencing. Not only did he have to fix the clogged pipe of all the sinks,
but he also had to fix the water damage that we had in our rooms because the water would just
come out of the sink. When he finally decided to hire someone to fix the problem, the costs
were already up to $100,000, and will probably be even more since some of the other people
living within the house have sued the landlord for not agreeing to the contract, and for
neglect of his basic duties as landlord. He even called us and screamed at us, why
didn't you mention the problem earlier? To which I replied that
I tried to solve the problem as an adult by informing my landlord who was supposed to fix this,
but that clearly didn't help. This story should serve as a good reminder. Always,
always communicate with your landlord over email. Maintain your paper trail and cover your own but.
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Our next Reddit post is from MoVoom.
Years ago, I saw a big box retailer had a really nice TV on special on their website for
about $300 off the in-store price.
Their store apps says they have the TV in stock, so I head to the store and ask their electronic
supervisor if they would price match the website.
He says, no, if I want this TV right now, I'll have to pay full price for it.
I know that when a website's in-store pickup order comes in, a guy comes out from the back
and picks an item off the shelf to fill the order.
So I pull out the phone and order the TV for in-store pickup.
Sure enough, two minutes later, a guy comes out from the back and picks up one of the
TVs that we're standing in front of and cards it to the back.
Three minutes after that, I get an email saying it's ready for pickup.
I head to the desk, get my TV, and head out.
Our next breaded post is from Ocheonage.
I was an English teacher in Moscow.
At the beginning of the school year, I asked for a week of time off around the holiday
so I could travel some.
I got denied, so the week it came around, I was pleased that most of my classes had been
canceled because the students had the same idea I had and were all going on vacation.
I got an email from the administration stating that I was to cover classes for another teacher
who was taking vacation for the week I had asked for.
So I was already a bit upset that they'd approved him, but not me.
Especially since I'd asked for it like five
months ago.
Anyway, I accept the hand that was dealt and start preparing the lessons.
The day of the first class, I leave home a few hours early so that I had plenty of time
to make sure I could find the place.
It was at a location I'd never been, and that I had all the necessary equipment I needed
to read the lessons.
It was pretty easy to find, but when I rang the bell, there was no answer. I had
some time so I went off to get a snack. I came back to the school about 30 minutes early
and rang the bell again. No answer. I tried calling the school administrator. No answer.
I tried calling the administrator who assigned the classes. No answer. For over an hour,
I rang the doorbell and called multiple times to no avail.
My contract stated that I had to wait 30 minutes for students to show up before I could
leave.
So, at the 30 minute mark, I send a text to all the parties that read something along the
lines of, I was here on time.
I waited a half hour after the schedule time, but nobody answered the door, I'm going
back home.
It'll take me 20 minutes to get to the Metro
If you call me before I board I'll turn around and come back. When I got home, I got a call
Where the hell are you? At home. You have a class. I'm aware I was there and nobody
answered the door. I called and nobody answered. I also loved a text. Texting is not an appropriate
form of communication. Now this was before I had a phone with a data plan,
so text was the only way I could message someone.
They tried docking my pay for this,
but when I told the owner what had happened
and showed him my call logs and the text I left,
he made sure that didn't happen.
Fast forward a few months.
I'd been having a lot of issues with the administration,
so I'd become an expert on the finer details of the contract.
One of those details was that the administration couldn't assign a class with less than 72 hours
notice.
So when they called on Saturday to give me a class for Monday, I told them no.
Again, they tried to dock my pay.
The owner cited me and told me I was right.
My favorite part, though, was receiving a text that said that I was to teach a class
on a given day.
They made special mention of the 72-hour rule.
I ignored the text.
When the time for class came around, I got another call.
Where the hell are you?
At home.
You have a class.
No, I don't.
I sent you a text.
I have it saved.
Texting is not an approved form of communication.
Down in the comments, we have this story from KD.
I worked as an English teacher in Moscow.
Because I really needed my job, I would do much more than my contract stipulated to please
my boss and ensure my position was secure.
I once got called into the office to discuss my tardiness.
School started at 9am,
and I was consistently arriving five to ten minutes late one week due to a very bad traffic
on the roads and winter. When I was called into the office, my boss tried to use my pay
as leverage. She asked me,
This is a simple matter. Are you following the contract or not? I boldly replied, no,
I don't. I was hired for one class, but I teach
too because you haven't hired a second teacher. I take half hour lunches when it states that
I can take an hour break. Additionally, there's no head teacher, and I've been meeting with
parents on my time without complaints. She didn't say a word after that.
Our next Reddit post is from Nutty Gooner. Okay, this happened about 20 years ago when I was 17 and working in a major UK supermarket
in a rather affluent London suburb.
This was my first proper weekend job.
I used to work in a bakery and it was the best section to work in a supermarket.
My job was to make sure that bread and fresh cakes were well stocked and presented
and to test the odd donut for quality control purposes,
of course.
And to make sure that there were fresh items available before we ran out, slicing fresh
bread, and making sure that rolls were stocked and tongues were available.
One busy Saturday, I was doing a quick inventory count, and when I came to the individual rolls,
I saw a middle-aged lady in a large fur coat and luscious red fingernails.
I didn't pay much attention to her until I saw her with a crusty roll in her manicured
and bejeweled hand.
Gave it a squeeze, poke her thumb through the crust, and throw it back in the basket.
She did it again, and when she reached into try a third one I piped up.
Excuse me, ma'am, would you mind using the tongs provided please?
She ignored me and grabbed a third roll and broke the crust, so a little louder I said.
Ma'am, please use the tongs provided.
She heard me that time and glared at me and said, I beg your pardon.
Ma'am, please don't grab the rolls, please use the tongs in the basket.
Are you saying that my hands are dirty?
She then raised her voice while waving her embellished hand at me, wiggling her fingers
so they sparkled as they moved.
Are you suggesting that this is filthy?
Well, knowing that folks tend not to wash their hands before using trolleys and baskets
without blinking her thinking, I said, yes, they are.
Please use the tongs.
The inevitable happened.
I want to speak to your manager at once. You should learn to respect your elders and
betters. I'll have your job for this insolence.
So I called for the bakery manager to come on down, bearing in mind. This was a busy Saturday,
and he was in his whites and wanted to know what the problem was. This woman went into a sob story
about how she was testing the roles for freshness and I was being rude to her.
Telling her how her hands were filthy, a few crocodile tears here and there, how she's
never been so insulted.
In a stern voice, my manager turned to me and said,
Did you say this to her?
Now I was starting to think I did something wrong and a bit nervous.
I replied, Yeah, I asked her to use the tongs. She ignored me so I asked
her again. My manager said, okay, he turned to the woman, said that he'll be back shortly,
he needed to do something and get some paperwork. While my manager was out of your shot, the
woman crowed, see what happens when you don't know your place. I said that I would have
your job for this. My manager did a quick count of the roles, muttered 224 loudly and went into the backroom.
He then emerged with an industrial-sized black bandliner.
He then proceeded to empty eight large baskets of rolls into the bandliner and a label for
224 individual grain-ery rolls.
Tied up the bag, handed it to her and said, here you are, madam, they're all yours.
I beg your pardon? The rolls, madam, they're all yours. I beg your pardon?
The roles, madam, they're all yours.
You openly admitted to contaminating our stock.
You ignored a member of the staff when she asked you to repeatedly use the tongs, and you've
wasted my time, so you're paying for the stock you've damaged.
Good day.
What am I supposed to do with all these bloody roles?
I only wanted two.
With a dazzling customer service smile, my manager chirped. Not my concern, madam. Security
will escort you to the tills and make sure they're paid for. Enjoy your weekends. He then
turned on his heels and went back upstairs to the bakery. The woman looked at me, then
the huge bag, absolutely a gasp. So I did the only thing I could do, grab a random loaf of bread,
take it to the bread slicer, and laugh in the back room. I saw our almost every week afterwards,
always using the tongs. We wouldn't get away with that now, but he was easily my favorite
manager in all my years of working. It sounds like this malicious compliance is going
to cost that care in a lot of dough.
That was our slash malicious compliance, and if you like this content, then be sure to
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