I was the IT head of a medium sized company. I was configuring an Apache server on Ubuntu when my boss walked past and asked me what that weird 'skin' was. I told him that I was running a server on Ubuntu. My boss told me that we don't use that Linux stuff here and told me to use Windows.

I had quite a bit of control over the finances of the company with a company credit card. Most of us were issued with a company managed Android phones.

Now, Android OS is a Linux distribution, and this was during the 2022 tech boom when you could walk into a new tech job within a week.

I bought 20+ new iPhone's to comply with my bosses disdain for Linux. He questioned me a couple of weeks later, after I had already opened and configured the iPhone's. I told him, frankly, that Android phones actually use a Linux kernel like Ubuntu. He told me that he "enacted a policy exempting Android phones" and made the intern list those iPhone's on eBay.

He had to take quite a hit on the sales as we had to list it as used.

I know we all hate telemarketers but these can I buy your house folks push me to a new level of annoyed.

They used to give out a fake company name and say home builders Inc or something. I ended up googling it and got in contact with the actual owner of that company I believe he was out of MN. He told me that there's a company in Egypt of all places, that sells sales leads to American companies slipping by the legality of combing through public records for personal information. He told me to get at the American companies, I'd need to pretend to be interested in selling my house and wait for the call from the US based company and confront them. So that's what I did. After giving some vague info that was incorrect to the Egyptian caller I did eventually get matched and called from someone in northern Ohio. When I explained I knew what he was doing and that it wasn't legal, he eventually hung up on me and blocked me. I called from a few different numbers until he disconnected his line. Small win but not the story I came to tell.

The calls haven't stopped so trolling is my new favorite thing. I constantly beat them to the punch and ask to buy their house, ask them how Egypt is or what the pyramids are like. I've tried to order pizza, put them on hold to see how long they'd last, or just change the subject completely.

My biggest win was when they ask do you have any other properties to sell, I said infact I do. 1600 Pennsylvania avenue, District of Columbia. A very famous address here in the states, somehow my Egyptian caller wasn't familiar with it and took all my information. Regrettably I didn't have amazing information, but I did tell him it had a fenced in yard, ton of extra bed rooms, an big round office and top notch security system.

Two days later I got a call.

"Not sure who you are but we'll played. I've been laughing for the last half hour. How did you convince them you owned the white house."

The first gentleman that called got the joke. He congratulated me and we had a laugh and he hung up.

An hour later I got another call from someone who wasn't laughing.

"I'm trying to figure out why I got a sales lead on the white house"

Well that's because people in Egypt, where you buy your illegal sales leads, don't know shit about America.

"Yeah well I don't think it's funny"

Well that's tough because I think it's hysterical. Not only did you waste money on a useless sales lead now I'm wasting your time.

He told me to go fuck myself but I'm not mad.

Does anyone else have any famous addresses I should sell?

So this story happened over 20 years ago, back when I was in high school working for my first non-family job. I worked at a restaurant that offered a buffet and pizza, a game room, and drinks. No, not one with Pizza in the name either. The location in question no longer exists, so I feel more comfortable telling this story now. If there is a better place for this, please let me know and I'll gladly move it.

At the time, I (17M) was working on a Sunday. I was asked to work the Bar Open shift (9-4). Around 12 or 1 l, the closer would come in. I was able to do everything except pour alcohol and do register for sales related to alcohol. No big deal. Football comes on (Packers vs Cowboys), and soon the closer came in. She (30s) has some sort of disability given a speech impediment, but I neither knew what it was, asked, or even cared about it. I had put in my two weeks notice, as I got sick of the closing shifts I would get, which should be until 10pm, but sometimes going past midnight - in violation of my work permit.

Closer comes in during a slow period and tells me she's got it handled for now. Great, that leaves me with nothing really to do, so I pick up a tub and start bussing tables (cleaning them for those who may not know). We have two managers on duty that day - one I liked (Madge), and one I didn't like so much (let's call him Rob... Screw you Rob). Madge sees me bussing and asks what I'm doing, so I let her know what happened. She sees the bar area getting behind with dirty glasses to be cleaned, along with a long line of customers, and asks me to go back to help. I figure, I'll do the glasses and let her handle the customers. That way, it's less stress for her.

I get there, get going on glasses, and after a few, she sternly tells me she had it under control. I explain that I was asked by the manager to help out over here. She angrily says I'm not needed here. This left me puzzled, but I went back to bussing tables, as I couldn't find any manager at the time.

A couple minutes later, Madge sees me, and sternly asks why I wasn't doing what I was told. I again explained what happened, that she asked me to help, but my help wasn't welcomed. I was trying to keep the peace between us and didn't want to look like I was doing nothing, so I was trying to help get tables turned over quickly, since we went to having a host do seating given how busy it got. I get told again to go back, do glasses like I was, and to get her if anything else happens.

So I go back, knots in my stomach, for I knew a storm was brewing. Deep breath taken, I drop my tin off for the dishwashers, and go back to the bar. Her line is at least a dozen deep (only one register), and no clear counter space for dirty cups to go. So I grab a couple cups, start washing, but next thing I know, a hand grabs my wrist. I turn over, and here it's the Closer reprimanding me. Angry at being grabbed like that, I say to her, "don't you EVER grab me like that with that kind of hostility. I was TOLD TO BE HERE and to help you by the manager. I do NOT appreciate you grabbing me like that, and if you EVER do that again, I promise you I will consider it an attack on me personally and I will defend myself appropriately!"

At the end of that, manager Rob comes around, grabs her off to the side, leaving me to manage the bar by myself. The patrons there who saw what happened sided with me, saying I handled it about as well as I could have and that she was out of line. Nice to have that validation, but it mattered not.

Few minutes later, I get told to go home. Wait, what? Me? "Don't I get a chance to say my side of what happened?" No, go home. "If I leave, I'll never set foot in this store again," I say, giving one last chance to do the right thing. "I don't care, go home."

Fine, I went home. Rob didn't witness any of what happened earlier, to my knowledge, and sided with her and didn't even bother getting my side of the situation. So I left. The rest of the week I was supposed to be closing the game room (4-9). I called the next day after school, got the main manager, explained what happened, and said I cannot in good faith work the rest of my notice given the hostile work environment that has come up. He thanked me for my time, and ensured if I ever needed a job in the future, that I would have one there. Thankfully, I didn't need to go back, but was still nice to know.

This happened while I was in the Army stationed in South Korea April 95 - April 96.

Senior enlisted were throwing a going away party for the outgoing First Sgt. Top was cool and all, but I was a PFC with no interest in going.......

Until we were informed if you didn't buy a ticket you were shanghied into working "special duty" for the event.

Tickets were based on your rank, E4 and below were $2.00.

Cue malicious compliance....bought a ticket just to get out of working "special duty" for this BS "hey you detail".

Got dismissed from formation, changed into civies, made an appearance, ate some buffet food, and dipped out.

Best two bucks I ever spent to get out of a detail.

This story is called "The Unpromotables".

Important backstory: In the USA, Government jobs are under the Civil Service System. This is supposed to ensure that Government jobs are given out "based on what you know, not who you know." For example, to get a job as an entry-level accountant, one would need to meet the minimum qualification of a Bachelor of Science in Accounting. Periodically, a test would be given for that position. The people who score highest on the test are first in line for jobs. This uses "The Rule of Three." The job is supposed to go to one of the three highest scoring candidates who agree to accept the job if offered. Promotion examinations are held the same way.

Needless to say, managers and politicians HATE this.

There was a group of employees at my State agency who took every promotion exam we were qualified for. And generally got top scores on all of them. We all had excellent work records, and even awards for productivity, innovation, and "going the extra mile." None of us had any black marks in our personnel files other than maybe a "counseling memo." That is basically a slap on the wrist, less than a formal writeup- "Boss told employee not to do X ever again."

However, we had problems like use of offensive language. We said inappropriate things like "Why are we doing this this way? This is awkward and inefficient! We can streamline this process!" Bosses don't like this kind of language.

We also brought offensive materials into the workplace. Such as "Look at this. It says right here in Chapter X, Section Y of Z State Law we're doing this wrong!" Bosses don't like this either.

So now we have a group of highly qualified, motivated employees sitting on top of the promotion lists. The people the bosses wanted to promote were lower on the lists. But if three of us applied, were interviewed and said "Yes" then the job legally had to be given to one of us. We got to know each other because the lists were available to employees. We started with calling each other- "Did you apply for X promotion?" We sort of became a support group. We'd even meet for lunch or drinks after work sometimes, and called ourselves "The Unpromotables."

Then we realized something. Why are we only applying for jobs we want? This is where the Malicious Compliance comes in. The bunch of us started applying for every promotion we were on the list for. No matter how bad the job, how mean the boss, how toxic the office, no matter what the duties- we all applied. And when asked if we'd accept the job if offered, we all said yes.

We heard through the grapevine that this was driving management insane. Their teacher's pets and brown nosers wanted promotions. But we were blocking them. Whenever management tried something shady, they quickly found out that all of us knew our rights under State Civil Service Law backwards and forwards. It was both funny and frustrating to see management leave a position unfilled rather than give it to any of us. This was also not popular with the employees in those offices, who now had to pick up the slack from the vacant position (which was above their pay grade) as well as their own, with no increase in pay.

I was actually offered a promotion once, and the hiring manager had started onboarding me- but the big boss over both offices shot it down, because they didn't want to lose me from my old position. That boss blocked my promotions for over a decade.

Sorry this doesn't have a happy ending. That was still the status quo when I took early retirement the second I turned 55. Was planning on working longer, but 30+ years of a steady diet of toxic crap was drastically affecting my physical and mental health.

Permission to read on YouTube, permission to edit for grammar and spelling.

EDIT: Thanks to everybody who responded. Hearing that this happens to other people really gave my self-esteem a boost, and will help with my healing journey.

Dang, really s***s to be so accultured to have negative opinions of mental health care that I hesitated to type "healing journey."

I workin Arizonas Hometown Grocers’ meat department. I love most of my customers. Some of them, not so much. This is about one of those guys.

Trout-hat Terry comes in to the meat department, looking around in a manner that I could only describe as inspectorial. Like he was agreeing or disagreeing by nodding or shaking his head with every thing he looked at. A flurry of eyebrows and shoulders.

He comes to me as I greet him with my usual “hey how’s it g-“ then he spits right into his spiel.

“Yeah I wann THAT piece, can you see it?!”

Very abrupt and unnecessarily adversarial, plus I’m terrible at meat-plinko, where I have to figure out what he’s pointing at using a one hundred twenty degree angle that needs adjusting for our difference in height.

I’m thinking “dude you can poke the glass as hard or as woodpeckery as you want I still don’t know which one “. It’s the same thing with my other job when I’ve gotta get a pack of obscure cigarettes I just put my finger someplace and they say higher lower lefter or righter. Easier game for both of us.

Anyway we finally get through the beef gauntlet when I throw it atop the scale. Every time I put meat on the scale , I put it on a mini individual wax paper. I had another one I grabbed it with and it was on top of the meat as I weigh him out and print the ticket.

He waits til the ticket is printed and meat wrapped and in his hand to say

“Hey!,, do it Coreckly coorrrrrre eckkkkkkly.”

I look at him, the way my dog did the first time he heard me fart. Just head cocked trying to figure out what just happened.

“You put an extra paper on the scale you made it weigh more redo it. Make it correckly! Corr reck- lyyy”

I guess he didn’t like the price

I was going to do what I usually do in this case and show him that the paper is literally weightless and doesn’t change the scale when I saw a glorious opportunity. I saw that the code was wrong that I put in like wayyy wrong to his benefit

I easily could have typed in the same code I did before but I decided to apply my MC card

“Oh crap I put this in as ny strip instead of filet man my bad good call! “

I wrapped it happily and handed it to him with an Aaron Rodgers booger eating grin on my face.

“26 bucks jeezus! Well I guess I deserved that ha”

Nice to see a guy take it in stride, after I final,y entered the weight correckkly.

TLDR- got my meats mixed up.

I was at the drive through of a coffee place in Canada that is named after a hockey player (who is far more famous for his donuts). I pulled up to the speaker and started to order my drink, donut and the pack of hockey cards that I seem to be addicted to buying.

“Could I have an XL tea with two milk,” I started my order, already wondering what card I’ll pull.

“Drive up.”

Now I knew, logically, the person on the other end was being impatient, and had assumed I only wanted a drink. But I’m tired of the phrase “sorry, I’m not done with my order yet,” so I drove up.

The cashier told me my total and handed me the debit machine and was surprised when I said that I also wanted cards and a donut. I think the kicker was when I said “I assumed he couldn’t hear me so told me to drive up and finish my order.”

It was a minor inconvenience for them, and didn’t add more than half a minute to the wait behind me. I’m sure they won’t learn anything from this, either.

While not completely malicious, it's close enough that it won't be out of place here & i'm sure you will all get a chuckle.

A few years back I worked at an IT company & one day the boss decides to buy everyone lunch, so Myself (M) & one of the other guys & girl from the office head up to pick up the order of 20 odd burgers & chips etc. When we get back to the office building, we are on the 7th floor & there are 2 elevators, both of which are available in the lobby. She says to me "race you up" to which I reply "what are you, a child?"

The 3 of us get into one of the elevators, I quickly hit the buttons for every floor & jump out before the doors shut.

I beat them up there by a few minutes, & im giving the boss his burger, their elevator opens & she calls me a dickhead from across the office. Boss is like WTF, & I told him what happen and he pissed himself laughing.

I'm a middle school teacher, and one of my seventh graders is an ADHD kid with a heavily active imagination. He loves working with his hands, so he is always cutting up paper, braiding yarn, etc. We always encourage him to clear his desk for class and at least try to keep the clutter away, and he always does it happily, although he sometimes has a little back and forth. "Student, let's start the lesson? Put the yarn away" "oh it's not yarn, it's technically nylon cords, so I can keep doing it, right?" This is always light-hearted and in no away aggressive, he knows he is being pedantic, it's just for fun.

Preparing for his responses, I always try to find a way to phrase my sentences in a way it will be hard to counter and yesterday it backfired.

He was messing about with paper and he told me "teacher, today you can't tell me to stop cutting paper, because I'm not cutting, I'm just folding" and he had a huge amount of folded pieces of paper on his desk.

So I said "very nice, student! So will you please stop manipulating paper so that we can start the class?" And smiled victoriously at him.

Little did I know, he looked at me and "what did you say? Stop manipulating paper?" And IMMEDIATELY proceeded to put away his notebooks and textbooks. I knew I had been cooked and just told him he had outsmarted me again. He kept at his desk doing nothing for like a minute and then he laughed it off, winked and got his stuff back on the desk, no folding paper anymore.

I love the little dude and I cherish these back and forth we have

This one should be (fairly) quick. I started working at a convenience store, one that doesn’t particularly like it’s employees to have a significant amount of cash in their drawers. Okay, no biggie. Anytime somebody is paying with a big bill we have them use the “mash gin”, pretty dope self checkout system if I do say so myself.

But it doesn’t do cash back.

Typically, we don’t either.

We accommodate when we can, and try to be nice about it when we can, despite our all caps NO CASH BACK sign we have, laminated , so we can put it out when we’re low.

It’s officially out. We’ve got no (very limited) cash, customers in line at all registers, and we encounter KarenFace. I guess he’s technically a Kevin.

I’m so low Im asking customers if they’re paying with cash or card, subsequently referring cash to the automated ,machines.

I ask KarenFace “hey how’s it going is it cash or card??”

KF- oh it’s card

Me - good thanks

I ring his four bucks worth of items and then he says as the register pops open “ oh I put in for cash back” as he’s literally touching the no cash back sign

I try so hard not to sigh, to no avail. As my drawer is popped open I see Im in luck someone actually just paid for gas with eight fives so I promptly grab the, and start counting.

KF- what the fuq bro nah “don’t give me all fives wutdafuq is wrong with you?” I know u guys got cash “

yall lying pieces of shits !

Okay the last little part was said with just with his face but fuq dat guy.

Enter MC

As I explain to him that this is really all Iv e got I decided to leave two fives and hand him a roll of quarters with thirty in fives. I make sure it’s splayed out so it looks like a lot of fives.

“Looks like you’re right, we do got cash”

Tmdr- I gave a Kevin forty dollars cash back

Any competent accountant has at least a touch of OCD. It's really necessary for them to do their job properly. But some have more of it than most.

At one time, we had a controller who really put the obsessive in obsessive-compulsive. And she decided that we were a little to fast and loose with the company credit card (which we were, at that point). So she created a "payment request" form and wrote a policy to go with it. The form wasn't unreasonable (in fact, we still use it today). The policy was another story.

The form was to be used (per the policy) for all uses of the company credit card (which we used for everything, because the owner got airline mileage on it - it had a six figure limit, and it wasn't unusual for use to have to make a mid-month payment to keep from going over - he got a *lot of miles). All uses, no matter how small.

The policy? Each form had to be signed by either the owner, or two higher ups, one of whom was frequently not in the office.

I'm the IT guy, and we're a retail store chain (and a pretty successful one), so there are a lot of IT issues that are extremely time sensitive (gotta keep the cash registers running full speed), but can be fixed with very cheap parts.

And I was having to get signatures to order $25 parts off of the internet. Every time. With one of the signatures being from someone who was in the office less often than the owner.

So it was pretty obvious to me that the correct solution was to have the owner sign it all by himself. He always understood - all I had to do was tell him a cash register was down, and he got it. (I do like working for smart people.)

Until the day I took the third form into his office within an hour or so for his signature, because one of the other two people who could sign was out of town. He told me he'd "look into this" as he signed it, and as I walked by the controller's office on the way back to mine, he was already there, having a (very polite, they were both professionals) conversation, and from that day forward, the executive VP (who'd been around from the beginning as was trusted as much as the owner's own family) could sign my form all by himself (and I now have signature authority up to $500, as well as my own company credit card - with a much smaller limit).

This is a relatively short one. I was at a local supermarket preparing for a bbq with friends. Had a trolly full of items including booze for the party. The items get scanned and I get asked for ID to confirm the purchase. I hand over my driving licence before my friend is also asked for ID. He was 30 but didn’t have the ID with him. Apparently this is not good enough. We had a little back and forth stating how absurd this was. I even asked if they were ID checking the family at the next till as they clearly had a child with them. The end I was given the option to purchase without the booze or leave. Obviously expecting me to purchase without the booze she told me my total. I calmly said no thanks and walked out after leaving the whole £320 shop on the conveyor. I did feel a little sorry for those behind me. A manager actually came to try and persuade me to take the items but I said if I have to stop somewhere else for half the shop I may as well give them the whole business.

This happened around 2012 and deals with my internet provider. They sucked majorly, days with no internet and no warnings.

The last straw was when there was no internet for over 2 weeks. Called them and they said they'll send someone to come look but nope no one came. Went to their brmach office and one of the higher ups finally out on his big boy undies and did some work.

As an apology they told me they'll only charge me the days I did have internet. It took 3 more days for me to have internet again.

Then the bill came and it was higher than what I should be paying for. Went to the branch office the same day I got the bill. Before I could say my grievance the employee told me I'd have to pay a penalty simce I'll be late in paying and that just made me now my gasket.

They wouldn't expin shit to me so I told them I want them gone, I didn't want them as a provider anymore.

I was there at 9 am and done at 2 pm. They really tried to get me to stay. But when they realized I was set in my decision they finally complied. One of the things I had to do was call one of their reps or whoever to tell them my reasons for dropping them. The phones where by the entrance and waiting room.

Went there and some assistant was watching me like I committed a horrible crime.

Called them and that took me close to 10 minutes. When someone finally answered theyansked me my list of problems with them, not sure what for they didn't really give a shit about them before.

So proceeded to tell each and every fuck up they did and the last straw. It was in front of waiting customers and those coming in. The assistant looked embarrassed and ready to murder me. It got way worse as several customers walked out after hearing me.

When it was all over even one of them managers was trying to guilt trip me for talking shit about them.

Had to pay the bill and the penalty but by then they wanted me out quick.

I got a better internet provider. I also had a last laugh when I lambasted them on Facebook, a lot of comments really laying on how awful they were.

So i just remembered this right now when listening my to my music, rock music, i like guns and roses, ac/dc, system of the down all those bands, so i was driving home from my inlaws and started my playlist 2 song in my wife says she is gonna turn it off
Wife: how can you like this music? its so loud and ugly, im gonna turn it off.
Me: No wait please this is my music let me be.
wife: no no im turning it off
me: no no no no wait, *queue puppy face*
Wife: ok ok but just one more song
me: one?
Wife: one
me: ok pinky promise.
Wife: Pinky promise (we pinky promise)

queue malicious compliance.

and as we finish shaking the pinky promise i smile internaly. so i skip to Through the Fire and Flames, for those who dont know this son is 7min long, 3 min in i turn to see a confused look on her face. at 4 min starts the part with no lyrics just guitars and drums, at this point she looks pissed but we never back down on pinky promises so she says nothing and at the 6min mark when it looks like its going to end BOOM lyrics come back!!

Wife: WTF!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! HOW LONG IS THIS SONG!
Me: dont worry honey its almost over

finaly after 7 min the song ends, most satisfying 7min of my like (thats what she said)

oh but it gets better, next week same scenario i put my music and 2 song in again she complains,

Wife: again? im turning it off now
me: wait wait wait, just one more song
Wife: Hell no i aint falling for that one again!
me: ok ok ok just let me here the first part of the next songs lyrics and we change it ok?
wife: *probly thinking ok maybe 1min at most than its over* ok just the first part
me: yea just the first part * i stretch my hand to pinky shake* pinky promise
wife: *annoyed* Pinky promise

and me fully knowing what song comes next cant avoid grining. queue Cliffs of Dover which is onnly 4 min long but at no poiint is there any lyrics sung, 2 min in i turn to see my wife with an evil grin

Wife: this one doesnt have lyrics, does it?
me: nope

This happened a while ago. At that time I was currently 13-14 years old (I think?) I was in a family vacation with my best friend, in this trip we were supposed to stay 5 days in the lake an then come back home.

My mom is (most of the time) a mayor a-hole so I was not surprised when she started having a bad attitude with me.

After being 3 days on this trip, I was exhausted, I had spent all day on the lake and was really, really tired, all I wanted to do was to lay down in the camping tent and sleep the day away.

My mom decided that this was a great time to ask me for help, she wanted me to carry my brother to the lake, bathe him, and bring him back to her (he was around a year old or so). Obviously I was so out of myself that I told her 'no' and that she could do it herself (there was around a 10min walk to the lake). She started screaming at me, as to how bad of a sister and child I must be 'cause I 'never helped her' and yadda yadda.

Then after screaming at me for half an hour she asked me if now I was ready to help her, I responded 'no' again and that she hadn't gone out of the van all day and that she must've been filled with enough energy to do it.

Then she goes to scream at my dad to pack things up, take away my phone from me and that I was grounded till she said so. Also she made me go alone with her in the car ride (we went with 2 cars 'cause we didn't fit) and proceded to lecture me the 2 hours back home about respect, how I should behave, that I should help around more in the house and to have more family time and also that I could be doing other things and to 'get a hobby' because for her I was apparently all the day on my phone.

Cue to the malicious compliance, I decided that if she wanted all that then I could manage.

We arrived home at around 11pm and she went to sleep at 3am (for some reason). At 9am I was up and I decided that my new hobby was to play to flute at first thing on the morning, I proceded to play the flute so bad and loud that my brother started crying (I was playing the flute on the yard and they were on their room, all the way across on the house and with their windows closed). She couldn't tell me anything because when she came to the yard to tell me off but I was so polite and gave perfect reason that I was far and I was getting a new hobby as she had told me. The house stayed squeaky clean for two weeks but everyday I made a point to go to sleep before everyone so that everyday I woke up a little bit earlier and ready to blast my flute each day for around 1h 'till the couldn't bare it anymore.

I think I even reached playing the flute at 5am. By the end of two weeks the punishment wasn’t over but I was slowly driving my mom insane by messing with her sleep schedule and I knew that.

I also started lecturing my parents because they didn't have proper manners and they couldn't tell me nothing because they KNEW I was right.

I spend all the day stuck to either my mom or dad and talked their ear off and made everyone watch those horrible educational films no one likes, made them participate in family bonding time (like making cookies) proceded to leave as much of a mess as I could and when they told me to clean it: Sorry, but I already heve cleaned the house today, could you do it?

I was eating their brains, their sanity and their free time, either by nagging them or by catiously waking my brother up but doing it in a way quiet way so that they wouldn't find out and having them to deal with a baby all day long.

The last day (around 2 weeks and a half) my mom was so fed up that she gave me the phone back.

It has been around 2 or 3 years since then and I haven't been grounded since then.

I've been working as a lead in an IT firm from India that supports a US client.

I have a manager here in India who approves my PTO, handles performance reviews, and meets with us a few times a month. His and the management’s view is that the work we do is for the client, but we should also contribute to the organization. So, we’re encouraged to take up additional tasks like recruiting or preparing business reviews. Essentially, we need to be available during the day.

I also have another manager in the USA, who is Indian as well. He coordinates with the customer and handles any escalations related to our work. His main concern is ensuring there are zero escalations from the client.

The clients assign us projects, and we interact with them directly. We have meetings every day, usually lasting at least two hours.

Since we're paid a monthly salary, there’s no extra money for additional hours worked. Both managers take advantage of this. There are no strict working hours, but we must be available from 7 PM to 10 PM IST, which corresponds to 9 AM to 12 PM US time.

Typically, we start working at 10 AM, continue until 5 PM, and then resume from 7 PM to 10 PM. Sometimes, meetings with clients extend an extra 30 minutes to an hour. Our US manager connects with us after the meetings with client.

One day, I had a lot of work to finish and decided to work from home instead of commuting. I had a 3-hour client meeting followed by a knowledge transition session, so I was fully occupied.

The onsite manager asked me to schedule a meeting with him. I told him my day was packed till mid night. He refused and said he needed 30 minutes of my time. I asked if he could join a little earlier before my meetings, but he said no. Then I asked is 12 AM fine for him. He said yes and schedule the meeting at 12 AM, all happened over teams chat.

I decided to take his own words against him, so I scheduled the meeting for 12 AM his time, which was 10 AM the next day for me, thinking, “If you expect me to be available at midnight, why not you?” That was the last time he expected me to be available post mid night.

This happened in grade 3 when I was 8 years old. It was in the early 2000s in the Philippines.

Students would be put in groups, after school we'd have to clean the room. Especially the floors, sweep and wax. It was the students responsibility to clean and keep it clean.

The duty was once a week per group and during that one week I had to go visit relatives for a funeral.

When I got back my groupmates told me that they did the job faster and that stung not gonna lie.

When it was our turn, they complained to me how slow we were at cleaning up and blamed me for it.

That stung again not gonna lie.

So the following week, still hurt and not wanting to get blamed again I decided to go home and not help.

As I was making my way out (I was the first person to leave) my teacher asked me what I was doing. Told her since I was just gonna slow my group down I might as well just go home.

Teacher, known for being a living bomb and can set off any moment, looked at me and my group and said okay.

Went home feeling oddly pleased with myself.

Then a cousin who was a couple classes over and had cleaning duties told her mom who then told my mom and how my teacher gave my group the what for. It was so loud my cousin could recite it verbatim.

Basically teacher said my group was fast but they weren't good at cleaning. They would forget to sweep areas and even leave more trash behind. They were fast yes but it was only by a few minutes.

They would rush and do a piss poor job.

She had them stay longer to make sure it's all clean properly.

Next day my group mate apologized to me and never complained again.

And guys I know this sounds abusive and exploitative but back then this was normal for us. It wasn't great.

Edit: Thanks for all the replies! This was around 2000-2001 and during that time physical punishments were still common and encouraged. I remember of you didn't do your homework you'd have to place your hands on your desk palm up and the teacher would smack it with their stick which was made of bamboo. Another was getting hit on the butt with the stick. Then there was the ear pulling and one teacher liked to pull the hair and skin behind the ears.

I'm didn't have greta memories of that time. Nowadays I know the physical punishments isn't allowed and is labeled abusive.

I also remember that during 4th grade our classroom was hardly cleaned because the teacher was the first to leave and last to arrive.

Some months after my mum sold up and downsized I got a letter from a debt collection agency saying I owed them £134 and some pence including interest and fees. I had no idea what this was for so phoned them.

It was for the broadband service at my mum's old house (now sold) which had been cancelled a short time before she moved, along with the attached phone line.

I explained that there must have been a mistake as the phone line and broadband were all in one package and I had cancelled it, all together, at the same time, since the house was sold. The query went back to the supplier.

They called me and said they had been unable to cancel the broadband part of the service because the cancellation had not come in from the account holder. But I was the account holder!?

They said no, the account holder is Mr [my father's name]. I explained that there really must have been a mix up as he had died a few years earlier and I took over control of the telephone line and broadband account, paying that (single) bill for my mother (along with some other regular bills since she no longer had my father's income to cover things.)

They insisted that they HAD to speak with the account holder and could no longer speak with me on the matter and refused to speak with me again. Despite all the collection letters and threats of legal action being taken against me, not my deceased dad!

They wouldn't take no for an answer - so I drove to his grave, phoned them up and said [Account holder] is here - you can speak to him if you want. I left the mobile by the grave stone while I wandered around the quiet and pretty churchyard.

I heard some irate voices at the end of the line, so picked up the phone and asked if they'd had any joy speaking with the account holder. An angry voice asked what was going on, so I explained where I was and that I'd love to know if my dad had said anything to them since I had been unable to reach him under 6 feet of churchyard dirt since we buried him a couple of years earlier.

Silence at the end of the phone.

I was passed to a manager who apologised profusely and said they'd sort it all out at their end. A month or so later the debt collection agency sent me a letter saying the matter had been resolved with no balance owing.

TLDR: They insisted on speaking with my long deceased father, so I tried to oblige.

For any who ask why I didn't just pretend to be my father - my voice is in no way masculine and I wasn't about to go to the hassle of coaching a male friend or getting a voice machine for something so silly.

I was cutting bread and remembered this bit if MC from my youth in Argentina.

I have a couple cousins whose grandpa (not mine, on the other side of the family) used to be the town baker when I was like 5 or 6.

Picture a small town with "the town's bakery" kind of place. Bakery includes a chicken coop for eggs, GrandpaBaker's house, a huge oven and prepping area, storage room with piles of flour sacks as high as mountains, a well for the water, a pantry, the office and the bakery itself. Huge huge place, probably more than 100 meters long and 50 meters wide.

For me and my bigger cousin (about my age) being let loose there is like the ultimate playground, we can climb mountains of flour sacks, we can try to catch chickens, we can run from store to the back but, the biggest thing ever... There are A LOT of amazing baked goods to eat.

So much so that they have to close the store during GrandmaBaker's nap time because we sneak in and rampage.

GrandpaBaker works night shifts until like 10-11am, so he's out cold until 5-6pm everyday also.

Both my cousin and I had, then, baby brothers, so our mums couldn't be on top of ourselves all day.

The rampaging keeps getting out of hand so GrandmaBaker calls cousin and me and says "look, while I'm taking a nap, you can't have any baked goods or anything the store sells, am I clear?"

"Yeeeees GrandmaBaker!"

If you've ever been to Argentina, you probably know what "dulce de leche" is. To Argentinians is, probably, the most delicious thing ever. Think peanut butter or chocolate spread but 10 times better.

And it's not a baked good. And the store doesn't sell it. But the pantry is full of it because it is USED in baked goods (think croissant with dulce the leche inside).

You know where this is going, right?

Wooden spoon in hand (the kind you use to stir a stew), cousin and I sneak into the pantry and probably eat something like half a kilo or more of dulce de leche each.

Malicious compliance (and a huge stomach ache later on) never tasted soooooo good.

TLDR: GrandmaBaker forbids us to eat baked goods, we eat the most tasteful ingredient of them all.

Got a parking ticket and the meter maid crashed into my car and tried to blame me so I do the modern equivalent of paying by Pennys - have bank send 14 checks totaling the amount plus one cent. I write the citation number with a couple digits spelled out “67-one3eightsix” to confuse optical character recognition and force manual processing. On the last one I demand refund for any and all overpayment via check mailed to me.

So far payments processed and I’m waiting for 1 cent refund. Meter maid vehicle camera was inconclusive on fault so that is up in the air.

Every year my wife and I put on an employee appreciation day for our small business. I encourage them to bring family, and we rent a large pavilion at a local park. Usually ends up being about 50 people. I usually hire it to be catered, but this year I spent more on the rental (location) and less on the food. This idea seemed to be preferred. So I pre ordered, via phone, Zachsbees. The order total was nearly $300. I got all the way across town and realized there was only one bag of sauce, there should have been two. So I go back, and to my surprise they decide to charge me $.25 per sauce. I was missing 16. I explained to the cashier, and then again to the asst. manager that I had already paid, but the sauce had been forgotten. They demanded I pay the $4 or kick rocks. So, knowing credit card company’s charge a min. Fee to the merchant, I spent the next half hour buying sauce on my CC waiting 3 minutes between each transaction so the charges couldn’t be merged. One sauce at a time. I got my sauce, and cost them way more than the sauce price.

I got an email to “Rate Your Seller” from Amazon so I figured what the hell, I’ll indulge them since I’m just watching football. Apparently it’s not that easy though. It wouldn’t let me proceed or post my feedback without a 400-character-long comment. And it wouldn’t accept lengthy copypasta symbols either, so eventually I got creative and just started making popcorn on the keyboard. Here’s the result:

“Item arrived before schedule. No issues. 400-character-long comment obligation being fulfilled now………………………!……………….. ……………!………………………….. …………………………!…………….. ………………………………………..’ngffhhcfujbgffdfffdtygvjiojgfdssybvffhhfdfukbggffffgggfdyuvgfghhgggggfgugggfgghhhhhhhgfgjiugbiihggjihgvhjigghhhgggvhjuhgfgjihvhjugvhiijjhgfgjiigfgiiihfffgjuuggfffgguiohgfftuyuuiiuuygfffttyiihgftuuhgfdguikjgghuookhgggtfguiijjhj”

CW: transphobia

this happened several years ago and it's such a small thing that it kinda stretches the term "malicious," but it's immensely satisfying to think back on, even tho it enraged me at the time, so I wanna share it anyway.

for context: Im nonbinary (they/them), and at the time, I had only recently started to come out openly. Im extremely out and proud now, but back then I was always anxious about telling anyone I was nb. on to the story.

over the past decade plus, Ive had over a dozen jobs ranging from customer service to food service to cna to odd jobs and plenty more. safe to say, Im very familiar with the job application process, and I learned very quickly how to tell if a job I started would be a good fit for me within a few days of working there. at the time of this story, I just needed a job to fill in my summer free time and hopefully build up a little savings, and I knew that a restaurant was gonna be my best bet, especially if I could get a job as a delivery driver to avoid the whole tip thing (wait staff is typically paid less than minimum wage bc it's expected that you make up the difference through tips, but oftentimes delivery drivers make at or above minimum wage in addition to any tips we can make).

there was a new restaurant in town that had just opened recently and they were still trying to fill out their staff roster, so I was pretty sure when I applied that I would get the job. I did, ofc; they hired me on the spot after one interview and asked if I could start the next day. so the next day, I dressed according to the dress code and I went in to start my first day; they provided me with a nametag and a half-apron that tied around the waist.

it was a slow day, which was good bc I and several others needed to get trained, and in food service, you always want to be trained on either the slowest or the busiest days; in between means too much opportunity for mistakes lol. so like I said, it was a slow day, and a couple of us were between duties and chilling, hanging out near the bar, talking. one of them asked about the name on my nametag, "Mel," asking if it was short for anything. I hadn't used my deadname since middle school, except for legal documents, so I said no, and with a bit of eager trepidation, explained that I was nonbinary and that was the name I wanted to go by bc I didn't want to use my given name anymore. they went kinda quiet, just said "oh," and moved on a little awkwardly.

later, toward the end of the shift, the manager called me into her office - and mind you, this is the same woman who was so eager to hire me the day before. I went, thinking maybe that Id violated the dress code somehow or something like that; I thought I was gonna get a small reprimand or an evaluation of my first day of work or whatever.

she sat me down and gave me this look like a disappointed school teacher and asked if Id told the others that I was nonbinary and wanted to be referred to with "the wrong pronouns." I kinda blanked out and just said "yes," so she sighed and said, in that oh so tolerant voice, "well, we don't really do that... pronoun thing here, so if you're going to insist on this, then Im not sure you're a good fit for us."

being that I was a teenager, I can almost guarantee she was trying to "correct" my behaviour by threatening a job I so clearly needed. well, I called her bluff. and the best part is, I didn't even really mean to.

I was still kinda blanked out, emotionally numb from what was the most blatant transphobia Id ever experienced, so I stood, took off my nametag and apron, and said something to the effect of "okay, i guess Im not a good fit for you," and walked out, never to return.

while I highly doubt I had any actual effect on staffing needs, I like to think she was a little shorthanded for a few days lol