rSlash - r/Pettyrevenge How A Waitress Got Revenge Against A Rude Karen
Episode Date: January 29, 2021r/Pettyrevenge In today's episode, a selfish Karen tries to scam a restaurant out of free drinks by claiming the drinks were made wrong -- after she finished drinking 95% of the drink. The bartender a...nd waitress conspire to get some petty revenge by intentionally making her drink wrong this time around to see if the snobby customer would even notice. If you like this content, be sure to subscribe for more daily Reddit stories! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where I read the best posts from across Reddit.
Today's subreddit is R-Slash Petty Revenge, where no revenge is too small.
Our next Reddit post is from Orboros.
A couple of years ago, I worked for a small team with an larger organization that ran
a rather niche grant program.
The team was literally me, my boss Charles, and two part-time consultants who did our finances
and bookkeeping.
My boss and I had a great rapport.
He hired me to essentially run large aspects of our program and gave me pretty much unilateral
oversight of the key elements of it, from program design and development to execution.
He was a great manager in this respect.
He provided a lot of mentoring and guidance, but mostly got it my way and only wanted me
to escalate the big stuff that I felt rose to his level.
While I didn't love the job itself, I loved having so much freedom.
I was sort of bridging that gap of moving from a young professional into a mid-career professional and so there's offered a lot
of growth opportunities. One thing that made my boss great was that he always had my
back. One day I was in the office pretty much alone. My boss was on the board of a few
organizations and he was off on some half day meeting. Our offices were right across from
each other so I could typically see him when he came and left and I could hear when his phone rang. That morning, his phone
was ringing and ringing and ringing. Then finally, my phone rang. It was the executive director
of one of the organizations we've worked with, an older man maybe in his 70s. The conversation
was something like this. O.P. speaking, how can I help you? I've been calling Charles
all morning and he's not answering.
Yeah, he's at a half day board meeting, is there something I can help you with?
I doubt it.
Maybe you can just check us calendar and put a call with me on there for when he's back.
I'm sorry, I wish I could, but I don't have access to his calendar, so I can't see
what he has in the afternoon and I can't add things to his calendar.
I'm sure we'll be back soon.
That is unacceptable. How does his secretary not have access to his calendar?
Who sets his meetings?
Now, here's the thing.
While I am my boss's employee, I am not his secretary.
I don't have access to his calendar
and my boss sets his own meetings.
Not only that, but I had corresponded with
and even met this executive director in the past.
My signature block and business card clearly says program manager as does my bio on our
web page.
Alas, this wasn't the first time someone had assumed that I was my boss's secretary.
It happens.
I was in my late 20s at the time, and as a young professional woman working for a man,
it seemed a common misconception.
Usually, it's not a big deal.
Normally, I clarify my role
and people feel a little embarrassed and then we go on about our lives, so I clarify my
role for the executive director. Just to clarify, I am not Charles a secretary. He doesn't
have a secretary, I'm actually the program manager. Charles manages his schedule on his
own. If you want to shoot us both in email, I'll make sure that he responds and sets up
a time to talk to you. Otherwise, when he comes back, I'll let him know that you called so you can arrange a meeting.
The Executive Director cuts me off again.
Well, I have an important question for him, and it's unacceptable that I can't set up a meeting with him,
and I also can't get an answer to it right away.
How was this good client service?
Well, you know, I am the program manager.
Why don't you tell me what your question is and maybe I can help you?
The executive director explained that he called to talk about the application process and
requirements for a program of ours, one that I actually ran.
Not only that, but his questions were simple enough that I wouldn't need to escalate to
my boss.
These were things that I could easily help with.
I said, well, you're in luck.
I'm actually the one who runs that program, not Charles.
I designed that application process, and I would actually be able to answer your questions
with a lot more detail than Charles would. He would just refer you to me. Why don't you
tell me your questions and I'll answer them. There was a long pause.
Then in a patronizing tone, he said, young lady, I'm sure you're very bright. And I'm sure you want to be helpful, but I'd really prefer to talk to Charles.
Why don't you just take a message form for me?
Okay.
Now I'm kind of pissed.
I'm about to tell him where he can shove his message when I see my boss coming down
the hallway.
So I tell the executive director that he's in luck.
I see Charles now.
Let me go tell him that you're on the line and to get back to you.
So I put the executive director on a hold and intercept my boss.
I kind of explain the situation.
My boss chuckles to himself and says, transfer him over.
I transfer the call and I can hear my boss pick up the phone.
Chuck speaking, oh hi there executive director, how can I help you?
Yes?
Uh huh.
Yeah, I was at a half day board meeting.
You have a question about which program?
Okay, what's your question?
Uh-huh, you wanna know about the application process
and criteria?
Uh-huh.
Okay, well, have you spoken to OP?
Well, she's actually the one who manages that program.
Yes, she actually designed the application process.
Sorry Executive Director, I wouldn't
be able to answer that specific question. No, I'm sorry, I don't know the answer to that.
Yes, that's right, OP manages the entire program and she's really the expert on it.
Let me go see if she's in her office. I hear my boss put the phone on hold. He takes a long pause
before he gets back on. I'm sorry Executive Director, but it appears she must have stepped away
from her desk. No, again I'm sorry, but she's really leading the program, so you'll have to speak
with her. I could transfer you to her voicemail if you wish. No? Okay, do you have her email? Great,
so send her an email and I'm sure she'll get back to you in all your questions ASAP. The Executive
Director didn't email me for a couple of days, and when he finally did,
I helped him walk through all the details of that program he was interested in.
I love this reply from Tasbaz. Not only did your boss force him to talk to you, but your boss
forced him to wait to talk to you. What a power move. Our next reddit post is from I'm on an
all-carb diet. About four months before Christmas in 2018, my boyfriend at the time
accidentally spilled a drink on his laptop and destroyed it. He couldn't afford a new
one and it was his main source of entertainment, so I said he could borrow mine since I didn't
use it that often. Everything was fine until Christmas that year. He still hadn't gotten
a new laptop by that point, but I assumed that was because he was saving up to get himself
a decent laptop rather than a sucky one. Anyway, he handed me my gift and to my surprise it was a brand new laptop.
I assumed that he had bought me a laptop to replace my old one and he was gonna take my old laptop for himself.
Nope. His gift to me was buying himself a new laptop so that he didn't have to use mine anymore.
Nothing else. Just that. I was outraged, but then a petty thought
crossed my mind. Little did he know that I'd fallen into a bit of money, so I decided to surprise
him with a top of the range gaming laptop, which was easily more than double the price and quality
of the one that he bought himself. So I decided to give him his present. When he opened it, his eyes lit up, and he looked so excited at the prospect of his new
laptop.
But, when he started to open his gift, I took it back from him and told him it was actually
for me, and my gift was letting him keep his new laptop without me trying to use it all
the time.
Of course, we got into a massive argument that eventually led to us breaking up.
I returned the laptop and used the money to go on a spontaneous holiday with my friend
for New Year's Eve.
No regrets.
OP, it sounds like your real Christmas gift that year was freeing yourself of your terrible
boyfriend.
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Our next way to position your goals.
I'm a bartender and the area where I work is upper class and petty as hell.
As I tell people all the time, I don't go out here, I just work here.
One random night, not too long ago, I'm making drinks at the will for servers to take to
their customers while the other bartenders handle our bar top guests. It's the middle
of our rush, and one of my servers comes up with a drink one quarter full and sets it down
saying the customer hates it and was demanding a different drink. Specifically, they wanted
a vodka mojito. I was too busy to put up a fight, and the poor server looked rundown already from the
night, so I went ahead and made it, even though it was obvious the woman was just looking
for free drinks.
The server runs the drink to the table, and it happens to be the table closest to my
well, so I can see and hear everything.
The server sits it down and hurries off to another table, and I watch as this woman absolutely
slams the drink until there's nothing but men and ice left in the glass. And maybe half-announce of liquid
on the bottom then she turns around and grabs a server again.
Um, I specifically asked for this with vodka. Yes, ma'am, it is. I know what vodka tastes
like, this is clearly rum. Tell your bartender to make it right this time, I'm not paying
for this. The server tried to say something but was rudely cut off bartender to make it right this time, I'm not paying for this.
The server tried to say something, but was rudely cut off and told to remake it again, so she
picks up the glass and walks over to me.
I'm so sorry OP, she starts.
And I immediately tell her it's okay, I saw the whole thing.
Girl, don't worry, I got you.
So I remade the woman's drink, one virgin mojito coming up.
Nothing but mint, lime, simple, and soda water.
I cannot explain the satisfaction that we both felt when that drink at the table when we
watched the woman sip it and go,
Now THAT is vodka!
You get what you pay for.
Down in the comments we have this story from Ashton Kat.
My favorite memory about sucky customers thinking their drinks are wrong happened to me and my friend who used to work with me as a bartender
One of my tables ordered a vodka cranberry simple enough, right?
So I asked my bartender buddy to make it for me and he does and I bring it back to drop it off
I came back a moment later after the customer had taken a few sips and she said this vodka cranberry isn't made right
It's the wrong color. It's supposed to be light pink and this isn't,
it's too red." And she was really rude about it too. Also, this was during the holiday season
and we were slammed. As someone who drinks a lot of vodka cranberries, this seemed ridiculous
and the bartender agreed. He said, watch this, and poured her drink into a taller, slimmer glass
with more ice, which made the color much lighter. And when I brought it back, she took one sip and said,
Hmm, yeah, that's how it's supposed to be made.
And then she scoffed at me.
Our next reddit post is from Bastet.
I live with my son's father and his family for a while after my son was born.
He and I have broken up since, thank God.
It was supposed to be mutually beneficial, but it turned into me and my son's
grandfather being the only people working and paying bills in the house. My ex's mother
hated me. She didn't really have a reason to, she just hated any woman that she thought
showed her up. Which wasn't really hard, since her main job was holding down the couch most
of the day to make sure it didn't run away. I turned a blind eye to all the trash she talked about me and blamed me for, but one day she took it too far. It was my mom's
60th birthday. Her friends planned to take her out to eat into a neighborhood bar for
a couple of drinks. They invited me along. The morning of her birthday, I put on some
nicer makeup and clothes than I usually do for work. It was a nicer restaurant and I wanted
to look appropriate. I was gone for about two hours. When I came home I walked past her and she called me a whore. That was the straw that
broke the camel's back. I was pissed. I quietly plotted my revenge, pretending everything was fine
for about two weeks until I had a chance to put my plan into place. She had all day plans on a
Saturday and for once I was all alone
in the house. She was a larger woman, so she really didn't have too much clothes that
actually fit in that she would wear. I went into our closet. I even took photos of where
the clothes were hung and how they were placed. Then, I took all of those clothes and put
them in the washer on the sanitized setting. If you don't know, the sanitized setting
is water that gets up to 220 degrees, which
was ranked just about anything.
I made sure to dry them on the hottest setting too.
Then, I very carefully hung them back up exactly as they were using my photos for guidance.
The next day was glorious.
She went to get dressed and absolutely nothing fit.
She had a meltdown in her room.
She called her family, bawling
about how she didn't understand how she could have gained so much weight in one week.
She refused to keep a scale in the house. She just went by how her clothes fit. The next
few days of watching her pull and tug at her clothes always brought a smile to my lips.
I don't know if she ever bought new clothes. I broke up with her son shortly after and
never looked back. Our next reddit posted from Emile.
So to set the scene, I work in a failing restaurant.
People are jumping shift left and right and I'm one of them.
Or I'm trying to be.
I'm a cook and the last good one left.
In total there are four cooks left.
Before so many people jump shift, I was working on morning shift with a cook that I'll call
Rebecca. Well Rebecca, let me give you an idea of the type of person she is.
She's a short, angry person who can't do her job, and apparently her farts smell like flowers.
She likes to cook on the egg station, but can't do to needing someone to hold her hand.
I refuse to do so since she refused to do anything else.
I'm running around the kitchen cooking everything from pancakes to steaks while she sits on the
eggs and misses every other order.
I simply don't have time to give her orders and run the rest of the kitchen.
To top it off, when a customer complains about her eggs, she yells at the server who asks
for the remake.
Overall, she's a jerk to everyone and refuses to do anything besides eggs.
Well, finally, her shift ended and she was on her way out.
She hadn't done any cleaning, stalking, absolutely nothing, so I politely ask, hey Rebecca, can
you please change a trash app before you leave?
She yells back.
You see, this is why we don't work well together.
You don't sign my paycheck and I don't need some kid to tell me how to do my job.
Well, to start, I am young. I'm younger than the majority of cooks in the restaurant and I'm't need some kid to tell me how to do my job. Well, to start, I am young.
I'm younger than the majority of cooks in the restaurant,
and I'm definitely younger than most lead cooks.
But I don't take kindly to people pulling an age card,
especially when I have more experience in a leadership position
and definitely not from someone who can't do a simple task.
Give respect to Git respect.
So, fast forward to the present.
I'm now working on the night shift,
and I happen to see on the schedule that Rebecca is
the morning cook.
Thus begins my revenge.
I clean the required places, but whoops, I forgot to change the trash, stock the line
or break the grill.
So as Rebecca walks in, there's nothing on the line.
Trash is overflowing and icing on the cake, a party of 24 walked in as I walked out.
When she saw this, she started yelling to me about how this and that is supposed to be
done and that I have to say to help her with a party.
My reply?
I'm sorry, you don't cut my check.
And I don't need some little B word telling me how to do my job, and I walked out and
went home.
When I came in for my next shift, I heard from a coworker that she got slammed.
The place was a mess,
but I cleaned it up quickly since it wasn't busy
for the rest of the day.
That was our slash Petty Revenge,
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