My act of revenge dates back 25 years. I was new in town, had not only moved into a gorgeous house, but also had an easy-to-recall phone number. Sure enough, without fail, during the first week of the new month, starting at 7 am or late in the evening, different people would call to speak about their bill with a woman doctor unknown to me. At some point I came to know the doctor and told her about the interruptions. It turned out that my phone number, which resembled her phone number closely, was mistakenly printed on her prescription pad. I pleaded with the doctor to pulp her misprinted prescription pads and to have herself new ones printed. She refused, because she had had ten thousand prescription blocks printed and she would have to pay for a new print run. The doctor had no recourse to the print shop because it was her mistake. She had written down the wrong phone number for the printers â€“ mine, that is. I had to repeatedly call on the doctor in writing to at least cross out my number when she wrote a new prescription or made out a bill. It was quiet for two months, then I suddenly got calls again from diverse private patients who had some kind of of problem with their bills. In the course of the conversations, it emerged that the wrong, that is to say my, phone number appeared not only on the prescriptions, but also on the bills and on the doctor's letterhead. The following month I activated my revenge plan by turning into a doctor's assistant at every call. I asked each caller to please come to the doctor's office promptly at 11:30 am on Wednesday the following week. Then he would receive the money in cash. Not any earlier, but latest by 12 noon. Actually, Wednesdays, starting at 12 o'clock, is when the doctor had her free afternoon. Not on this Wednesday, though; seeing that about 60 callers did not let this chance go by, the free afternoon was a bust for the doctor, although it was a cracking good summer's day, during which I thought, while going for a swim, about the long line of private patients all demanding to get their money back. In any case, since then no one has bothered me on the phone any more with the dumb question, "Can I speak with Madam Dr. F? Something's not right with my bill." The only ones who should forgive me for this are the poor patients.
During a stroll through my forest, I came across a mole, sitting disorientated along the path. The surrounding ground did not look like he could dig into there easily. Feeling sorry for him, I brought him along and re-homed him to a nice lush ground where he started digging and disappeared swiftly. Where the place was? My neighbor's garden.
My neighbor drives an old banger of a ford fiesta. The exhaust died a long time ago and the noises coming out of that car are to that effect. Punctual at 5.30 am, when he drives it out of the garage, I am wide awake and upright in my bed. It seems to feel like a small eternity before he, with running engine, has finished saying good bye to his wife and locking the garage . I found out by coincidence that all old ford keys fit in all old fords. You can't open the cars with them, but you can lock them.
So the next Wednesday morning I lay in ambush and waited until my neighbor went back into the house and the car was parked up with running engine. Locking the car with the Ford Mondeo key I had borrowed from my father was a matter of seconds. My neighbor returned and cursed wildly. He couldn't get into the car and there it was, clattering horribly. It got frantic, as the wife couldn't find the spare key either. I was watching the scene from behind my curtains, pissing myself laughing. After about 15 minutes a police car appeared, as apparently one of the other neighbors was fed up with the nightly interruptions. The policemen couldn't access the car either. Since no solution seems to be apparent, I returned to my bed. Only around 7 am it became quiet again. At first I presumed he was out of petrol and peeped out the window. About 10 neighbors, 2 patrol cars & an AA car were gathered outside. I assume it was thanks to the AA guy that my neighbor could finally access his car and switch off the engine. Since than I have gathered that the nasty pertubator had to join the AA for their help and the police fined him with a ticket for disturbance of the peace and a costly failing's card for his car. He changed his exhaust the same day. Since than the world is ok again at 5.30 am.
I (w/23) share a house with 2 guys. One of them owns an espresso machine, and he makes himself this delicious coffee. I find this poser machine to expensive and use the normal, cheap coffee maker. A while ago I noticed that one of them always uses my coffee when he has visitors. Looked like he was too greedy to use his own expensive coffee. I don't mind if it happens once, but it happens all the time. Fed up with it, I grounded a laxative and mixed it into my coffee powder. The next study group ended quite abruptly. I am still smiling today when I think about. I might have over reacted, but I hate greediness.
I was preparing lunch when I (w/27) got extremely horny. Since neither my partner nor anything else suitable was readily available, I used the cucumber. I was planning to dispose of it immediately when my partner called that he was bringing his mum (a real dragon of a mother in law) for lunch. Side dish was cucumber salad. Correct. With THAT cucumber. My self-control was extremely challenged trying not to laugh during lunch. I couldn't hide it completely, so my partner asked me later what was going on. I told him the whole story while suffering from a conniption that brought tears to my eyes. Thankfully he took it humorously. I'd love to tell the whole world.