We’ve all had to deal with a spoiled brat whose parents couldn’t tell them “NO,” but not everyone has the pleasure of getting sweet revenge on those tiny jerks. Well, that’s not the case for these little punks—they got exactly what was coming to them, and it felt so good.
I work at a supermarket, and I once told a kid who was running around screaming that he had to go to “grocery lockup.” He probably thought I was lying at the time, but nope, I certainly was not. I made him sit in a shopping cart lined with Limburger cheese next to me until his parents showed up. I think they were just happy to have him out of the way.
While teaching in China, I worked in a school where any kids who acted out got physically disciplined. I didn’t take part in that stuff, which worked for me—but it also meant I had to find other ways to punish them in order to get respect. One time, this kid was acting out and would just not listen to me, regardless of my normal go-to methods.
After the third time, I came up with the perfect solution. I placed the student in front of the class, and then asked each student in the class to come up and draw something on his face with a black pen. No remorse, he had it coming.
This kid was running around a restaurant at high speed, making a loop. Around and around he went, yelling and knocking items off of people's tables. He zipped by my table one too many times…and I tripped him. He did a long sliding face-plant. Jumped back up and started crying and yelling at me. His parents grabbed him and hauled him out of there without a word.
When riding the bus home from high school one day, a little elementary school boy decided throwing chunks of muffin at me from across the bus was a great idea. I began collecting the small pieces one by one, and as I walked off the bus, I turned to him, looked him straight in the eyes, and shoved a handful of muffin right into his face.
In first grade, I had to go to the bathroom really badly, but the teacher was busy and told us not to bother her. Well, I couldn't hold it in anymore and went. Everywhere. My pants were soaked and there was a giant puddle in the chair. I nonchalantly moved to another area of the room, trying my best to hid my wet shorts. Then the best thing happened.
This jerk named Sheldon in my class went and sat over in my puddle. He freaked out and the teacher thought it was him and sent him to the principal and ultimately home. Screw you Sheldon, I don’t care.
While I was out shopping with a friend, there was this little brat running around in the store. His mom was nowhere to be found, and he was just running wild and knocking over stacks of shirts, screaming at the top of his lungs, just acting like a complete and total brat. This went on for at least 5 excruciating minutes, all during the time we're in the line to pay for our items.
Then, we see him running full speed towards us. My friend has had it with this little jerk, so she came up with an ingenious plan. The moment he hit us, she turns around with her newly purchased items and whacks the bag straight into him. The kid immediately starts screaming and crying. We hightailed it out of there, but I have no remorse whatsoever. Honestly, it felt great.
I used to work at a discount fashion boutique, and I would constantly have wild human animals running around the store. I remember actually having to tell some kids "Hey! Stop running around!"—but their mother’s reaction was worse. She just glared at me like her kids could do whatever they wanted. Sometimes the parents are just as spoiled as their kids.
Every time I end up stuck in a checkout line with whiny, crying little children where the parents of said whiny little brat aren't doing a thing, I will calmly turn to the brat and repeat whatever they are crying about back at them, in the exact same tone, at full volume. "MOOOOMMMMMMYYYYYY, I WANT IT I WANT IT IWANTITIWANTITIWANTITIWANTIT!!!!!"
That coming from a fully-grown woman and directed at a squalling brat will shut the kid up so fast, you wouldn't believe it. Of course, the entire checkout line then awkwardly avoids eye contact with me for the rest of the trip, but I have a smartphone so it's all good. And, bonus: now I don’t have to listen to any crying children. I'll call that a win.
In grade school when I was about 11 years old, a guy on the school bus relentlessly teased my 9-year-old younger brother. For months, this jerk just wouldn't stop harassing him. I finally got sick of it, confronted him, and told him to knock it off. This didn't slow him down one bit. As soon as I got out of his face, the teasing and badgering continued. So I took it to the next level.
I casually hopped back into the same seat as the jerk and then I slammed his head into the window so hard that the window cracked. He didn't say a word, but I could see him quietly try to cover up his tears. With that done, I went back to my seat. He never messed with my brother again, nor did anybody else on that bus, come to think of it.
Normally I am not a physically aggressive person, but after seeing my little brother tormented every day, I had enough. I never felt bad for hurting the kid, since he had it coming. Still, I surprised myself that I actually did slam him, but I would do it again in a heartbeat to protect my little brother. You don’t mess with my family.
Once at a laser tag birthday party, there was a 12-13-year-old little jerk following people around and capping them over and over. Every time the vest and laser would come back on, he'd go to town and shoot you multiple times. He'd follow the same players everywhere. He kept doing it to one of my friends and me, and even did it to my friend’s little brother despite multiple warnings.
After the second time telling him to stop, I checked him to the ground…and ripped a huge toot right on his head. It was perfectly timed—but it got even better. He cried and told his parents I had been mean to him, but I just told him he was following us around and then tripped and fell. They bought it and apologized for their child. Awesome.
Back when I was a waitress, I worked at this BBQ joint that had really narrow, awkwardly arranged tables so I always had to lean a bit over to serve the food. Anyhow, there was this table with a really obnoxious 4-year-old who kept grabbing at everything: My hands, my clothes, the tray I was serving from. He even untied my apron and my pens and cash flew everywhere. This went all through the whole meal.
Meanwhile, the parents didn't do a thing about it. In fact, the dad said it served me right for taking a job in food service. Total jerks, all of them, and I knew I wasn't getting a decent tip. So towards the end of their meal, they order dessert—peanut butter silk pie, which is ooey-gooey sticky pie heaven. I knew just what to do.
I make sure to cover it in an extra mound of whipped cream and balance it precariously on the side of my tray, counter-balanced with a couple of soda refills for the parents. Sure enough, when I got to the table, the little jerk made a grab for the tray and everything conveniently capsized all over him and his parents.
They were covered in diet coke, whipped cream, and the stickiest peanut putter pie you can imagine. I looked appropriately shocked and then said "I am SO sorry. Guess that's what happens when you have kids." Even managed to make it back to the kitchen before I cracked up, along with most of our staff. Serves them right.
While teaching in Japan, one kid was just a little devil. He had no respect for me or the other students. I spoke with my office about this several times, because I felt he was a danger to the other students, but I was told it's Japanese culture to let their kids go wild during childhood because they would soon be under enormous stress once they hit junior high.
Well, this little brat was being particularly annoying one day, and actually shoves a little girl, who just falls face first to the floor and smashes her forehead against the ground. These students are only about four to five years old. When I saw what he'd done, I checked on the girl and saw she had a massive welt, at least the size of a golf ball, if not bigger, swelling up on her forehead.
I call my office to report the incident, while restraining the kid, who proceeds to dig his nails into my arm, which actually draws blood. All they say is try your best for the rest of the lesson and we can try to let the mom of the girl know what's happened. I knew I had to do something. Long story short, we end up drawing pictures at the end of class, and he decides to make a paper air plane instead.
He started to throw it around and was laughing and having a great time. This is when I ruined his day in the best way possible. I snatched it from him and crumpled the paper right there as he looked at me, then I threw it in the trash. The kid loses his mind and just cries uncontrollably for the last few minutes of class. No regrets.
While I was at a zoo, I kept seeing this one group of people walking around. Their kid was wild with energy. He would throw things, like popcorn, at everything. Me included. Even though I asked his parents several times to get it under control, nothing changed. Then I took a left when they went right and thought that was the end of it, but a bit later we were next to each other again.
I was hoping the kid had settled down, but he was just as loud and obnoxious as ever. So we were in front of the camels and I said to him, "Hey kid, come here and look at this." For those who don't know, camels spit. And this kid started throwing popcorn at the camel and yelling at it. Suddenly the camel had enough and let out a huge loogie.
It covered the side of the kid’s face and was running down onto his shirt. It was glorious. He started crying and yelling, ran over to his parents, and told them I made the camel spit on him. His dad started yelling at him and said, "Are you bothering that man again?" He then got a swat on the seat of the pants and they left the zoo.
I worked at a Toys R Us twice doing seasonal work around the big holidays, like Christmas and such. Anyway, you have to find ways to amuse yourself and keep from going totally insane with all the bratty kids and exasperated parents. So I did one pretty awful thing that I nonetheless have absolutely no remorse for.
I was scheduled to work the first shift on Black Friday, and they made me wear the Geoffrey the Giraffe costume. First rule is, don't talk. Dance, pose for photos, and keep your mouth shut. Basically, don't ruin it for the kids. But this particularly bratty kid kept punching me “down there” while I was posing with him for the photo. I was in the suit, but it still hurt. Wouldn't cut it out, so after the photo was taken, I got my revenge.
I knelt down, got my giraffe head at his eye level, and whispered, "Your parents told me not to say anything, but you were adopted." That little punk started wailing so loud, crying his eyes out. Best part was, the parents complained, but since I was in costume and they had just hired a bunch of new people, they had no idea who had done it.
I used to lifeguard while in high school at a community pool with a big twisty water slide. There was always a guard at the slide for safety and what not, and one of the things we had to watch for were those kid's bathing suits with the built-in lifejacket. Due to the life jacket, inevitably the kids would end up hitting their heads pretty hard against the walls of the slide around the twists. Like, every time.
So one day, a boy wearing a lifejacket suit wants to go down the slide while I'm on duty. I told him that he wasn’t allowed due to the risk of injury. Five minutes later, the boy's mom comes up to me and starts yelling about how I wouldn't let her kid on the slide. So I calmly explain our policy due to past incidents, but she's having none of it.
The whole time, the kid was standing behind his mom with this smug look, like he knew he was going to get what he wants. So after a few minutes of this, I gave up and just said, "Fine go down the slide. Prove me wrong." Sure enough, as he's about halfway down, I hear two loud bangs as he gets thrown around in the slide.
As soon as he exits the slide, he starts crying. I, of course, would have administered first aid (give him an ice pack) because it's my job, but the mom just grabbed him, still crying, and left without making eye contact with anyone. I know it was probably more of the mom's fault than the kid's, but wiping that look off his face was incredibly gratifying.
My two-year-old cousin was being a huge brat. He kept challenging all the adults to Wii Bowling and crushing them, which is cool, but he was just being really obnoxious about winning. The rest of the family was pretty oblivious, and actually found it cute. He's 12, so I have no problem with him being obnoxious to me, but I knew if he did that in the playground, he could potentially get his butt kicked.
He had some hearing problems when he was a baby, so he was in a special school to help him catch up, and I don't believe that school had normal recess—so he wouldn't learn about not being a jerk until it was too late. I didn't want him to enter normal high school and just think this could fly. So, I said, "Ooh, Wii Bowling? I'll play you." I scored a 264 to his 140, and I didn't say a word about it. I never taunted him, I just played and put the controller down. He wasn't so obnoxious after that.
I did this unintentionally, but when I saw the payoff, I had no regret whatsoever. I used to live with my two younger cousins. They were seven and four at the time. They always came into my room and messed it up, awful stuff like peeing on my shirt and tearing up my books. I couldn’t lock my room, because my aunt had an open-door policy in her home.
So I had to put my school bags and projects on the top of the shelf, which is about seven-feet high. Well, one day those brats come in, try to climb the bookshelf, and it ends up tipping and they fall off. They both had to get stitches.
I was working at a surf/skate shop when I was 18 in the late 1990s. A mom comes in, complains that her kid's skate shoes are showing wear on the toe…because the kid is actually using them. She yelled at her kid in front of us, and then demanded a full refund. I told her that the shoes are not indestructible, they just tend to last longer than most shoes.
She freaks and demands to see a manager. I turn around to walk to the back, and then turn around to face her, and say, "Yes, I am a manager. Can I help you?" The lady freaked the heck out, yelled at everyone, and stormed out. The best part was that I wasn't a manager, and my manager was watching the entire thing go down. He loved it.
This happened about eight years ago, and I was 22 at the time. The ice cream truck guy in my neighborhood made an announcement that he had one Choco Taco left. I wasn't really wanting one, but upon hearing that announcement and being a sucker for the frozen confection, I decided to make a mad dash for the bright green truck.
The neighborhood brat obviously also heard the last call and was hustling to the truck. Haha little jerk, I'm older and faster than you. I passed him, laughing loudly as I could hear him pleading with me to let him get there first. Too darned bad. This is called Natural Selection, and I made it to the truck about half a block ahead of the kid. The ice cream truck gave me a funny look as I proudly pulled out my $2 and got my Choco Taco.
I have spent most of my life being very frugal due to living well below the poverty line since I've been on my own. Coupled with really low self worth, I struggle to ever let myself buy nice things, even when I really want or need them. After completely wearing out a pair of five-year-old flip-flops, I "splurged" and bought myself a new pair...cute, simple, foam platform ones from Target. They were $12.
I felt guilty for days, and almost even returned them. After I got over the guilt, I loved these shoes. Fast forward a few weeks, my good friend's nine-year-old daughter realized that our feet were almost the same size, and started wearing my flip-flops around. I asked her several times to take them off, first nicely, and then firmly and with more force.
My friend yelled at her several times to take them off. The girl's step-father even stepped in and yelled at her several times to leave them alone and take them off. She didn't, and proceeded to trip, ripping the strap clean off of the shoe. I just got up, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "I can't believe you did that. Thanks a lot."
I didn't talk to her for the rest of evening. I know it sounds so dumb, but I'm still upset about it. I was even all worked up to go buy a new pair, but because stores are dumb and for some reason start phasing out summer items before summer is even half over, the store was all sold out of those flip-flops by mid-June, with no intentions of restocking them. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to look that little girl in the eyes again without thinking "Screw you, you bratty little flip-flop wrecker."
I work at a restaurant as a dishwasher and prep guy. The boss’s son is a bit porky and spoiled. He comes in, gives us advice, even though this kid is like 12. So, one day he tells me "I'm not going to tell you how to do your job, but you need to clean the dishes." My perfect comeback made him fall completely silent. I simple said, "I'm not going to tell you that you're a huge spoiled brat, but you need to lay off that ice cream."
I know it's risky to tell this to a boy whose mother signs my checks, but a week of hearing this from him just made me snap.
When we were younger, my sister had two friends over at our house. This was not the first time they’d been over, and our sister’s friend is super cruel to animals. Last time she was over, she shoved our cat’s face down a glass of chocolate milk, tugged its tail, and was just horrible. So later, my brother and I are outside under our balcony, which is about 5 meters above ground level.
Our sister and the two friends are standing on the balcony. My brother is just bouncing this tennis ball, and the evil friend tells us to throw it up to them and they'll catch it. So my brother aims for the friend’s face and throws it hard. The ball flies and hits her right in the face. She stands there for about two seconds, trying to understand what just happened, and then her face shrivels up and she just starts crying her eyes out. Me and my brother just got this “heck yeah” feeling.
I was in Toys-R-Us and picked up a huge bucket of those little green army men. But I dropped it and the lid popped off as it hit the shelving on the way to the floor. The entire aisle was now covered in green army men. This little kid was standing there with his eyes as wide as mine. When a store employee walked into the aisle, I just looked at the kid and said, "Dang kid, look what you did" then walked off.
While shopping with my wife, there was this little bratty kid. He was running around, screaming his lungs out, pushing people’s carts and being an unbelievable nuisance. His mother was apparently not interested in his shenanigans, since she did nothing about it and didn't even look at him while he was tearing around ruining the store.
Then suddenly, he lost sight of her. He stands there in the middle of the shop, looking around, and starts screaming in an angry voice at the top of his lungs: "MOM?! MOOOOOOM! MOOOOOOOOOOM!" I can’t see her either, so I bend down to him and tell him, in the sweetest sing-song voice I can muster, "Your mom is never coming back.” The shocked look on his face was totally worth destroying a child’s soul.
When I was 16, I was repeatedly teased by a pack of 10-year-olds. They were really annoying, they'd call me names and had absolutely no fear of me as a much older and physically stronger kid. So anyway, a month or two later, I had been suffering from near constant phone calls and harassment whenever I walked by them. At a certain point, I just snapped.
I walked up to the ugliest one, slapped him in the face harder than I ever have before, and grabbed his cell phone. Then I threw it at a wall and punched the ice cream out of his hand for good measure.
When I was in the 8th grade, I went through a phase where I didn't care about anything because I was graduating soon. So I walked into a very, very, large amount of kinder-gardeners and yelled, "SANTA ISN'T REAL!"
A while ago, I was walking home in the afternoon and I decided to get myself a pie, which was in a wrapper, from the bakery. I was walking past a bridge, which happened to have at least eight school children hanging around it. I was just finishing my pie as I was walking along, and this chubby kid walks up to me and demands some of the food.
I told him he could have the whole bag. Then I placed the empty wrapper in his pasty hands and kept walking. It was the funniest thing ever to see how angry he was.
I was in grade school, and we were reading silently to ourselves in a giant lobby. All of a sudden, I felt a rumble in my 10-year-old tummy. The pressure was building and fighting for immediate release. I knew it was coming, the gases were brewing. Ominously, my stomach rumbled in final warning. Foolishly, I decided to ignore the signs and let one out, thinking it would be silent.
Much to my chagrin, it shot out and echoed throughout the hallways. I broke out into a cold sweat. I tried not look guilty but that only made me sweatier. I looked down at my book, pretending to read, as I heard laughter across the room. I looked up, only to see a tubby kid laughing and pointing in my direction. I was so embarrassed. But I didn’t know the truth.
Through the corner of my eye, I looked at my poor neighbor, Colin. To my surprise, his face was redder and guiltier than mine. By some stroke of fate, he happened to have tooted at the same time! Everyone blamed him but not me, maybe because he had just won the school hot dog contest, or maybe because he was chubby. Regardless, I never felt bad about framing him, I was just glad I got away with it.
This was back in the 5th grade. We were playing football in the soccer field during recess. I wasn't really accepted as one of the athletic kids, but I was still in pretty good shape, so by some miracle someone passed me the ball. I did a wild spin to get around one person and then smacked another boy in the eye. Hard.
But guess what? The kid I accidentally hit was a guy who teased me mercilessly. The kid fell to the ground, then I caught the ball and I scored a touchdown. When I turned around, I saw the kid bawling on the ground. Honestly, I think that was the best day I'd had in years.
A couple years back, we were having a giant neighborhood water balloon fight on Easter. Things were going well enough when this little girl, who was maybe nine, went running to grab another balloon. She passed by a boy of about 12 years, and the little jerk stuck his foot out and tripped her. She face-planted on pavement and started crying.
So I took my balloon and just threw a perfect arc, nailing him right in the face. He went home crying, I went home smiling.
When I worked at an indoor amusement park, we had one Friday a month called "Rock n Ride." It was basically a bunch of pre-pubescent teens getting together to ride rides and grind on each other on the dance floor. I almost always worked the coat check. These kids coming in were spoiled rich brats 95% of the time, with huge allowances and iPods and stuff.
Coat check was $1, but we charged $2 and took the profit as a tip for us. Also, you aren't allowed to leave anything in your pockets for liability reasons. I would tell kids this when their jackets were obviously weighed down with stuff. They’d always just say, “Nothing important is in there, I don't care if it gets taken." Well…I would take it, all their big bills and iPods.
Later when they came to get their coats, they would immediately stick their hands in the pockets and then get mad at us. Hey, I warned you. Everyone loathed working this event... I'm pretty sure they don't have them anymore.
I had to go with my parents to their friends' house. They had a son who was about four. He was usually well-behaved, but that one time we were there, he decided it was a good idea to walk around with his pants and underwear off, grab anything he could, and rub it on his junk down there. His and my parents said that it was just a phase and that it was TOTALLY harmless.
But then he had to go grab my chopsticks and my napkin and rub them all over and under his happy place. At that point, I got pretty annoyed with him and decided enough was enough. I hatched a brilliant revenge plan. It was simple: I got a bottle of hot sauce that was nearby and poured some on my napkin. Then I waited. As I predicted, he soon came toddling over, grabbed my napkin, and began rubbing it. And then the crying began.
We were at Oktoberfest, and had consequently consumed a lot of booze. All we wanted to do was ride the Dodgem Cars. There was a fair-sized group of us, so we were letting people go in front of us, waiting for an opportunity for all of us to ride together. But there were these two kids. They just kept sitting there on the ride.
These were token-activated cars, so they just got a whole bunch of tokens and kept re-activating. So the round finishes again. Inebriated, burly me ambles over to these kids and gruffly says: "Oi...leave." They scrambled off as fast as their scrawny, unknowingly inconvenient legs could take them, and we all got to ride together. They got back on immediately after. No regrets.
When I was 16, there were these three "tough" kids in middle school who constantly teased my 9-year-old little brother. They would do stuff like taking his bike from our garage and hiding it somewhere, and their parents wouldn't do anything to stop them. So one time, when I knew they were going to be coming around soon, I purposely left the garage door wide open with his bike sitting there in the middle.
Then I put my brother on my back and carried him up to the garage roof. I gave him my airsoft gun, which he was a god with, and sat there waiting for the jerks. Sure enough, the three kids show up, riding skateboards, and the moment they exit the garage with my brother's bike, he just unloads full auto on their backs.
My mom uses a service dog to get around. She isn't blind, but she does need help walking. The dog gives her something to balance with. She also loves going to Disney world. However, parents forget that they need to control their children while they're at the theme park. They just let them run wild, so kids will go up and mob my mom so they can start petting her service dog.
In retaliation, I start to pet the children. Scares the bejesus out of them, too, since I am a big, heavily-tattooed, mean-looking guy. The parents have never said a word to me because they immediately know they are at fault.
We don't get too many kids in my coffee shop, but when we do, 90% of the time they are little monsters whose parents let them run wild. I work at a busy store, so we have rope line dividers snaking through the front of the store. A girl who was maybe six or seven decided it would be a good idea to start vaulting over the dividers.
That in itself wouldn't bother me too much, but she kept this up for nearly an hour, getting in the way of paying customers the whole time. I was running the shift, so I nicely asked her if she wouldn't mind knocking it off, as she could get hurt. In the snottiest way imaginable, she said, "You're not the boss of me!" and kept right on jumping.
One of my employees suggested I go talk to the parents. I had an even better idea. "Just wait, and watch," I told her. I noticed that with each jump, she was clearing the rope by fewer and fewer inches, and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened. Sure enough, five minutes later, the little darling made her last jump, got her foot tangled in the rope, and landed smack down on the tiles, face first.
It was one of the most satisfying sounds I'd ever heard. She wasn't seriously injured or anything, but boy did she start wailing. Her absentee parents ran over and started yelling at me as if it was my fault, at which point I told them my job was to make coffee, not raise their children for them. They stormed out, with their bratty blubbering offspring in tow.
I went to a wedding a few years ago, and one of the bride's younger female cousins was beyond obnoxious. Her mother was even worse, which is why I imagine the little girl was this way. Over the course of the afternoon, I heard her say such gems as, "I would NEVER shop at Walmart. All MY clothes are name brand." She was a complete nightmare.
This was said to a seven-year-old girl in a very cute dress, which she proudly proclaimed her mother bought her at Walmart on sale. Later, while eating cake, the little brat said something way worse. She took some of the 7-year-old's dessert, stating that "It's for your own good, you're too chubby." The one that really got to me, though, was when she started boasting that she was going to catch the bouquet.
Every adult in the place was severely annoyed by her at this point, and I made it my mission to catch that god darned bouquet. When it came time for the tossing, I centered myself and gave a wink to my friend, the bride. She threw it right at me, and the little 12-year-old lunged for it. I elbowed that brat right in the face, and caught the flowers. Not even a little remorse.
I was driving down a very narrow street, and there were these two teenage kids walking on the road. They saw that I was there, but I guess they thought it was funny to stay in my way. After it wasn’t "cute" anymore, one of them moves off of the road, but the other continues walking towards my car with the worst grin spread across his face. I decided it would be good fun to rev the engine to give the kid a scare, since beeping hadn't done a thing.
Well, I sure did accomplish my goal of scaring him. Completely on accident, my foot slid off the brake and I sped towards the kid, who was in so much shock that he didn't even have time to get out of the way. Luckily for both of us, I didn't smush his butt into the pavement, but I did manage to brush his jacket as I drove past. Watching his expression turn from maddeningly smug to pure horror was one of the most satisfying things I have ever experienced. I'm positive that he was unharmed, but he may have pooped himself in front of that girl he had been trying to impress.
There was a kid on the train going from North to South Greece who was being ridiculously annoying: Screaming, throwing stuff, and generally being a brat. His mother was asleep and obviously didn't care. At one of the stops, vendors were on the platform selling a classic snack, souvlaki sticks. I was kind of hungry so I decided to buy two.
As I was eating, the kid starts running up and down the track. Then I get a brilliant idea for how to shut him up. I call him over and I tell him "You know what this meat is from?" He looks at me, and I answer, "The last little girl who was being noisy," and took a barbaric bite from my souvlaki. The kid ran to his mom and hid behind her the rest of the ride. The other passengers must have overheard, because all I got was smiles of approval.
There was a kid in Walmart gliding down the aisles in those stupid wheelie shoes. He kept running into people and knocking stuff off the shelves on purpose. I got angry after he ran into me the second time. The next time he came around, I tripped him. I pretended it was an accident. It was no accident. That kid was a jerk.
I was a school bus driver in the 1970s. I ferried poor kids to the rich side of town, then rich kids the other way. Lots of entitled brats, but one stands out. Super entitled kid, constantly defying rules. Eventually I caught him attempting to set a bus seat on fire with his lighter. School officials were called, obviously. There was a hearing with officials and his rich dad—and at the end of it, the kid got banned from all buses for the rest of semester.
His dad offered to pay for the damage and quietly accepts the punishment. Then comes the surprise. Next morning when I arrive at 6:00 am to clean my bus, the rich kid and his richer dad are standing there. The dad introduces me to my "new personal bus cleaner" for the rest of the year. He brings kid every morning and forces him to wash and clean the floors on my bus before taking him on to his school.
By the end of year, the entitled kid is actually working hard and being friendly. We're getting along pretty well and I help him out sometimes so he can get on to school. Kid turns out OK when it’s all over. Good move by his dad.
When I was working at a public library, we had a few local celebrities come in from time to time. Most of them were nice, but one had a real stick up his butt. He would complain about having to stand in line, about late fees, and about everything else. We would just say "Sorry, those are the rules" or "Thank you for being patient" even though he wasn't.
One day, he and I were apparently both having a bad day, and when I told him there was a limit on how many DVDs or video games he could check out at a time, he slammed his hands on the desk and raged, "Do you know who I am?!" This is a grown man, mind, and I was a little college student who barely looked old enough to drive.
I was sick of him, though, so I just looked at him and said, "Yes, I do, Mr. X, and the rules still apply to you. Which of these would you like me to put back?" He was stunned. I don't think anyone had ever actually told him that the rules for everyone else did in fact apply to him as well. He was a little nicer after that. Not a lot nicer, but still.
When my brother was in school, he was horrifically teased for being autistic. Even worse, his aggressor was the most entitled little brat I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father paid for boxing practice, karate lessons, and other martial arts. This made him think that he was the best at anything physical and he used it against others.
My brother isn't overly fond of sports, and prefers to read in the library. As the typical nerdy kid, he's a prime target. One day when the jerk had cornered my brother up against a wall, my brother finally decided that he wasn't just going to take it any more. But he strongly dislikes aggression, and thus would not be fighting back.
Instead, when the jerk tried to punch him...my brother ducked. Three broken fingers and a trip to the hospital later, the jerk’s father finds out what had been happening. All his extra classes and training were cancelled, and he had all of his electronics and games sold. Also, if he wanted to have a car, he would have to work for every penny himself.
There was only one coffee shop on my campus, which operated out of the library building. It was always crowded. You pretty quickly learned that if you wanted coffee before class, you got there 20 minutes early, grabbed a newspaper, and took your time. It was always funny watching incoming freshmen crowd the line five minutes before their 8 am class and slowly filter out in despair.
Cue this little freshman girl walking up, assessing the line stretching out the door, and boldly deciding to just sorta...skip it. Now, the baristas were usually pretty cool with people skipping for simple things: Dropping a buck for a cookie, anything that didn't require interaction. Not this girl. She caught the barista's attention, while the previous customer was still paying, and went:"Hi, yea, can I get a latte please, like really quickly?"
"Umm, the line starts back there," replied the now slightly confused girl behind the counter. "But I have claaaaass" whined the freshman. There was an awkward pause before the barista responded with a brutal retort, "You are on a college. campus. Are you freaking serious?! Why do you think all these people are here?! Back of the line!"
"Oh" was the only thing the freshman girl thought to say. As she turned to look at a line full of people staring daggers back at her, she looked not upset or embarrassed, but sort of enraptured by this newfound understanding she's just been imparted. It's like for first time in her entire life, she realized that other people were in her way for reasons.
It was actually kind of beautiful to watch, like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time. Better late than never.
The high school principal’s daughter, who previously got away with all kinds of garbage behavior, suddenly got caught vandalizing a lecture hall in university. She was unceremoniously dumped and banned. Her parents whined for months about their poor baby’s unfair treatment and the fact that her applications to other universities got denied. Boo hoo.
One of my girlfriend’s cousins, a young boy, kept being a little devil and constantly bothering me. He just started hitting me in the face. I warned him, my girlfriend warned him, and I even said, "If you do that again I will hit you back." So he did it again, and I instantly swiped his feet away from him. He whacked his head on the floor and cried.
No matter which way I put it, I'm not going to sound innocent here. One of my cousins wants to constantly eat everyone else’s food. Last week, her mom left me some money to go buy her and her siblings something from Wendy's. I did. She finishes her meal, and then proceeds to take more than half of her youngest brother’s food.
After that, she was eyeing her other siblings' food. She even tried to take it when I wasn't looking. I even offered her something else like fruit or whatever to avoid this, but she still did it. So I finally had to actually send her up to her room to eat alone. I felt like a total jerk, but I burned through all the other solutions that didn’t isolate her.
When I was 22, I went to this arcade-type place with my younger sister and her friend. It had this glorious two-storey ball pit with tunnels, slides, ropes, trampolines, all that. Most importantly, there were these American Gladiator-style pneumatic guns that fired the balls. To load them, you had to put the balls in a vacuum tube on the bottom storey, then climb up to the second floor to fire. So it took a bit of work to fire off three-four rounds. As I was admiring this cannon, some 12-year-old kid throws a ball at me. It missed by a solid six feet because little kids have bad aim. The intent was clear though: The battle was on.
I immediately enlist my sister and her friend. They enthusiastically begin stuffing balls in the vacuum tube as I swing the barrel. I blast the kid right in the forehead with the first shot and punish him with three-four more before he can dive behind a foam triangle cushion. This attracts the attention of the 20 other kids in the room.
Then, the little pukes formed an army complete with ranks. A volley of balls were thrown at me. Then another. I couldn't poke my head up long enough to effectively aim. The tide began to change. My sister and her friend found large popcorn buckets. They began scooping balls and dumping them in the vacuum. I could not fire fast enough.
It was pandemonium. Bodies were flying, kids were crying. I pushed their battle formation clear to the other side of the room. Then I found their supply caravan. With my ammo stock full, my sister was a scout. She excitedly pointed over to my left flank. They had enlisted a really chubby little boy, couldn't have been older than eight, to gather spent ammo.
He was slow, but could carry a large load. He had come close to us to gather balls. His arms were full, his chin smushed down on the top balls. He must've had at least 30. He was trying to scoot back to the other side, away from the full force of the cannon. Our eyes locked, his wide with panic, mine narrowed with focus and determination.
I pulled the trigger. Time slowed down. My aim was true. The balls he was carrying exploded everywhere. More shots were fired. Devastation. The kid drops to the floor as I rain full balls onto his body. The rest of the adolescent army was in full retreat. They had advanced to defend their brother and volley'd a couple salvos at me, but it was too late.
They were caught in the open and their supply cut off. My sister and her friend were throwing balls themselves in between reloads. I spun back to the supply kid. He was now sitting up and crying. No mercy. Carnage everywhere. Then things got truly crazy. A grown woman came flying in, waving her arms and yelling stop.
The package donkey's mom. The final boss. She stepped in front of her boy and raised a finger at me. Her face red with anger. “HOW DARE YOU SHOOT MY LITTLE JEFFREY! I'M GONNA-" fwump The first round struck her right in the mouth. She looked livid. "WHAT THE F-" The sound of her cursing and crying was drowned out by the pneumatic pump of the cannon.
I pelted her and little Jeffrey for a solid minute. Satisfied, I climbed down and began walking out of the room with my sister and her friend. I stepped over her body and held the door open for my sister and her friend. I pointed at the warning sign on the wall that highlighted the danger of the air cannon. "That sign lets me put my balls in your mouth."
We walked out and grabbed some coke and chicken fingers. Battle had made us famished.
I was having a bad day while working at a Subway one night, this kid comes in and orders a foot-long sub. The entire time I'm trying to take his order, he mumbles, sighs, walks away, and keeps saying, "I dunno." Just generally, he's being a huge brat. Then when it comes time to pay, he smiles at me with this annoying little grin and says he doesn't have enough cash on him.
He's close, but off by about 40 cents. So I said, “No problem little buddy, let me just ring that in as a six inch.” He beams triumphantly that his short change plot worked—but he didn’t know what was coming. Before I rang it up, I snatched the sandwich back, split it in two, and handed him half the sub with his change while tossing the other half in the trash. Problem solved.
There was an elementary school next to my high school, and some of the kids who went there were really messed up. They were like eight or 10, standing outside and being rude little jerks to everyone who walked past them. We were actually shocked with their vocabulary. Anyway, one day I was walking by, alone, eating some buns.
This one kid comes up to me with a smug look on his face and yells, "GIVE ME A BUN, YOU IDIOT!" The look on my face was must have been something like shock or disbelief as I replied, "No! Screw Off!" to him before I turned my back on the kid and started walking away to get to my next class on time. Big. Mistake.
I suddenly feel a slight push and weight added to my back. The kid was hanging on my back, pulling my hair and screaming "GIVE ME A BUN!" I felt like I had been jumped by an angry leper gnome. In my panic, the only thought I had in my head was "OH MY GOD! GET THIS OFF OF ME!” In some weird move worthy of WWE, I spun around quickly while straightening my back and loosened my backpack, which caused this little jerk to fly off me.
He spun around in the air and landed face-first on the concrete. He immediately started crying like the kid he was. I proceeded to walk over to him. His teary, fear-filled eyes stared up at me as I picked up my backpack. I turned my back on him again, picked up a new bun, and enjoyed the fading sound of that brat's crying as I walked away, eating my sweet bun.
It’s true what they say: money makes the world go round. In order to succeed in this life, you need to have a good grasp of key financial concepts. That’s where Moneymade comes in. Our mission is to provide you with the best financial advice and information to help you navigate this ever-changing world. Sometimes, generating wealth just requires common sense. Don’t max out your credit card if you can’t afford the interest payments. Don’t overspend on Christmas shopping. When ordering gifts on Amazon, make sure you factor in taxes and shipping costs. If you need a new car, consider a model that’s easy to repair instead of an expensive BMW or Mercedes. Sometimes you dream vacation to Hawaii or the Bahamas just isn’t in the budget, but there may be more affordable all-inclusive hotels if you know where to look.
Looking for a new home? Make sure you get a mortgage rate that works for you. That means understanding the difference between fixed and variable interest rates. Whether you’re looking to learn how to make money, save money, or invest your money, our well-researched and insightful content will set you on the path to financial success. Passionate about mortgage rates, real estate, investing, saving, or anything money-related? Looking to learn how to generate wealth? Improve your life today with Moneymade. If you have any feedback for the MoneyMade team, please reach out to [email protected]. Thanks for your help!
The Moneymade team
If you like humaverse you may also consider subscribing to these newsletters: