#and correcting little mistakes here and there and leaving instructions for coworkers tomorrow

[sleepinglionhearts]

Man, just saw a post about it, but renewed my frustration over work nonsense yesterday

Being like, oh, cool! It's disability pride month! We get to switch the displays in the store! I wanna make a really cool display right up front!!

Getting a cart to go start selecting books from our wide array of children's books, picture books, YA novels, adult fiction, nonfiction, etc that I know feature disabled characters and people and that I've seen sitting on the shelves for a while, our previous book buyer was always suuuuuper vocal about finding books w disabled characters, after all, representation just MATTERED SO MUCH to her,

And then being absolutely dumbfounded when we BARELY HAVE ANYTHING outside of characters w ADHD/Autism. MAYBE anxiety. PERHAPS a character has cancer. THE FAINTEST SUGGESTION of a wheelchair in one book. Huntington's? Question mark? In another? Conditions resulting in disfigurement/amputation? The concept could possibly exist in this book, uhh.. maybe...... anything else? Ha! Not on these shelves I fucking guess?!

Like.... we have a ton of books w queer rep! Different body types! Different skin tones! Teach your toddler about social justice! Transgender characters! Nonbinary characters! The alphabet but we're making it gay! At least one book, I think, with asexual characters! But no, we don't have our self-empowerment books anymore or the little guide to sexuality and disability, we have Buddhist monk advice for anxious people, but nooooo we DON'T have that cool book that talked about disability activism anymore, and definitely not in time for July!

I know she and I were at odds before she left, and I know my specifically putting "National month of..." prompts up on my desk calendar after she expressed it was "so difficult to find out what each month is the month of!" probably really irritated her, but I'm like. Appalled that she hadn't been ordering to restock for disability pride month since she always made such a big deal about having books like that in the store.

[shorkbrian]

Piano

Me: Depressed

My Brian: Suga as your piano teacher but make it creepy 👀

Me: Depressed but thirsty.

(No NSFW lol)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay but seriously imagine it.

You start taking piano lessons from the man the next floor up from you in your apartment complex. You know he’s a pianist, know he’s the one playing the beautiful music that you can hear from your apartment because you’ve bumped into him before.

The collision had sent music sheets flying, luckily contained within the elevator you had rushed into. You had apologized profusely as you helped the poor man gather them up, cursing your clumsiness. He had laughed and said it was okay, he could be quite clumsy himself.

It was a while before you saw him again, catching him in the elevator once more. Luckily you managed to not charge through the doors and into the man like you had done at your first meeting.

You ask him if he’s a piano teacher - the man smiles, shakes his head. He’s a pianist for the city orchestra. Does his playing bother you? Hopefully not, but if it does he can close his windows or -

But you assure him that you actually quite enjoy listening to the music that floats down from the floor above you. You like it so much you had wanted to ask him about lessons, but since he wasn’t a teacher you wouldn’t bother him.

The man had stopped you then, a hand on your shoulder, a kind smile on his face.  He wouldn’t mind showing you a few basics, come up tomorrow?

And so that’s how you found yourself in Koshi Sugawara’s apartment three times a week, sitting at the baby grand that took up the majority of the spacious living room.

He was charming, and sweet, and patient - a good teacher. He had started out with the absolute basics, showing you where the notes were, teaching you about chords. Suga didn’t say anything when your hands shook with nervousness, when you hit a sour note or pressed a key too harshly.

Despite not technically being a teacher, Suga was good at teaching. He often sat beside you on the bench, his thigh pressed to yours, grey eyes focused on the keys and how you played them. Being so close allowed him to easily make corrections, moving your hands around gently, instructing you to put your hands over his own so he could show you how to play a certain chord that was giving you trouble.

You had never taken piano lessons before, so nothing seemed amiss. Plus, as handsome as Suga was, there was no way in hell he could be interested in little old you. Assuming any different would be narcissistic and vain. He was much too.... successful? Attractive? He was so far out of your league, it would be laughable for you to even think that you had a chance with him.

But that was okay. He was a good friend, insisted you pay him in visits and by maybe baking him cookies or pumpkin bread. Suga didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, preferring spicy foods, yet he always asked if you could bring a snack you enjoyed when you came to practice. 

Despite his cool, gentle demeanor, Suga was a fiercely proud man. He liked showing off for you, asking if you had any favorite songs, then immediately composing mock tunes of the songs on the piano. It was stunning, how quickly his mind worked, how practiced his fingers were.

But slowly, discomfort started to seep into the lessons.

It started out with Suga asking you to come up, no lesson this time, he just missed you. You had something else going on, a doctors appointment, so you had to tell him no over the phone. He seemed upset, and you didn’t hear from him for a few days, other than a quick text cancelling your upcoming lesson.

But the next week he was back to his kind, smiling self. You apologized for making him feel bad, but he brushed it off, giving you a quick, tight side hug from beside you on the piano bench. As far as he was concerned, there were no worries.

It started to unnerve you, how his gentle, encouraging touches seemed to wander more and more at each lesson.

When he corrected your posture, his hand would trail down your back, rest at the top of your tailbone - far too low for your personal comfort. But he was harmless, just an encouraging teacher. He was probably touchy like this with all of his friends.

He liked to rest his hand on your thigh while you played, rubbing gentle circles. Suga never voiced this, but he preferred when you wore shorts, when he got to touch your skin. Unfortunately for him, as his touches became more bold, you felt more comfortable wearing more... modest clothing.

Suga tried to invite you for dinner, lunch, would you like to go to the orchestra practice with him? Or maybe you’d want to come to a show?

He got so pushy, you didn’t know what to do, what to say, other than a cheery yes, making the older man smile so bright that it felt like you were looking at the sun.

At his orchestra practice, you got to see his coworkers, meet a few of them too. One of them came up to as everyone was packing their instruments away, introduced himself as Oikawa. Flirted with you a bit. It was quite flattering.

Well, before you got yanked backwards into a hard chest.

Suga was glaring at his coworker, his normally passive expression twisted and angry.

Oikawa got the hint, flashed you a parting flirty smile before turning on his heel.

Yet Suga still held you close, his grip so tight it was almost painful.

Apparently he didn’t like Oikawa because he was a “player”, and not just of musical instruments. Suga’s voice was laced with an unfamiliar venom as he asked for you not to talk to his coworkers, just keep your eyes on your pianist, only talk to your teacher, only let your friend touch you or be close to you.

It didn’t make you feel good.

After that, you didn’t exactly feel comfortable around your teacher. He was clingy, possessive, acting like a slighted, jealous boyfriend when he was barely a friend. It made you uneasy, the way his innocent brown eyes watched you so intensely. At first you had just thought he was watching for mistakes, ready to help correct them. But they didn’t feel quite so friendly anymore.

You began cancelling your lessons, citing that you had other errands to attend to, appointments you couldn't cancel, phone calls you couldn’t miss. Suga pouted, but had to leave you be, even though his incessant texting and phone calls “just to shoot the breeze! (Y/N), I’m lonely up here all by myself!” meant you never had a moment to yourself.

He got more intrusive, showing up at your door (when had you told him your apartment number? you were almost positive you hadn’t) and asking if he could come in for a bit.

He missed you, Suga insisted, sitting down on your couch, hands folded in his lap. Was something wrong? Was he not a good teacher? 

You didn’t know how to tell him that he was making you uncomfortable. I mean, how does one go about that? 

“Ah yes Suga-san, your touches go too far and you always sit too close. I don’t like how you feel entitled to invade my space. I like you as a friend, but you’re making me uncomfortable.”

You couldn’t see that going over well.

Plus, Suga was your friend, just as much as your teacher. You didn’t want to hurt him. Were you just reading too far into things? Were his touches normal, and you had just inflated your place in his life? Probably - there was no way Suga would go for someone like you.

So you endured, finally relenting and scheduling more lessons after Suga started coming to hang out at your apartment, hovering in your space, following you around like a kicked puppy as he tried to figure out what he did to make you hate him so suddenly.

But now everything seemed so much worse.

His touches creeped further, he practically sat you in his lap to show you a new technique for playing the keys, he was touchy and invasive and yet somehow innocent. As if everything he was doing was normal, no cause for concern.

And maybe it wasn’t.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Something was wrong with the piano, or maybe something was wrong with you? 

No,

Something was wrong with your teacher.

[prorevenge]

Insult me for my efforts? I'll ruin your holiday.

I'm on mobile, so sorry in advance for formatting/typos. I never thought that I'd post here but I've finally gotten my share of justice boner (although maybe not as pro as y'all'd like -- as it's still ongoing, suggestions are solicited)!

My dad and I have been planning to hike the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu for about a year, to start on father's day (he'll soon be 60 so I wanted to help him cross this item off his bucket list before he gets older).

A coworker of my dad's decided that he wanted to join in on this trip with his daughter, and as it was my first trip to South America, I thought there would be some strength in numbers in case we run into trouble, and I accepted.

My dad's coworker (let's call him 58 because that's his age as well as his IQ) has never traveled much aside from Italy (through a package tour), and was completely inexperienced in traveling solo. As we began to plan this trip, his answer to everything became "I'll just do whatever you guys are doing (read in your best idiot's voice)."

Whatever, I was determined to make this trip the best one for my dad, and it wasn't a big deal for me to make the reservations for 4 people instead of 2, so despite the fact that 58 and his daughter (let's call her NP, for Nachu Picchu, obviously) were not pulling any weight on the trip planning, I was glad to do it, and happy to help 58 and NP experience the world (NP has never traveled outside of her home country as far as I know).

Unfortunately, trouble began almost immediately. 58 has packed way too much and literally could not handle all of his luggage, leaving me and my dad to carry one of his bags atop our suitcase (he never once said thank you, and my dad was already pissed on day 1). Here are some of their lesser offenses:

- if you've ever traveled Peru, you might know that most first-time travelers follow the same path (often called the Gringo trail), starting in Lima and following a few very small but touristy towns (Paracas, Huacachina, Nazca). Our plan was to stay in these towns for 4 days, where there is no ATM access. So I wrote to 58 many weeks before the trip to bring at least $500-600 usd + 400 soles in cash, to pay for hotel and transportation as well as food, and wrote clearly that he will not see an ATM for 4 days. As soon as we landed in Lima airport, 58 announced that he had precisely $305 and a very low ATM withdrawal limit (around $200 per day). I knew we were in trouble then (we ended up lending him some money to make him shut up whining about money, which he ended up doing daily)

- from that day onwards, 58 began harassing me about ATM every day despite the fact that I have told him that there won't be any ATMs (keep in mind that I'm his co-worker's daughter... Have some dignity maybe?)

- 58 also complained constantly that the Peruvians don't speak English, and that he had no trouble communicating in English on his package trip to Italy. Umm... Sorry for not having taught all the Peruvians English?

- Despite his massive luggage size, both 58 and NP didn't pack everything that they needed for the Inca Trail, and they wanted to spend an entire day shopping for trekking gears. To give you an idea of what these people are like, 58 needed a rubber end to his trekking pole, and wanted our help in finding a store that sells it. When my dad pointed out a store that had hiking sticks on display, he cried out in his whiny idiotic voice "I want the rubber end, not the hiking sticks!" *rolls eyes*

-At the Inca Trail, our hiking group was about 10 women and 5 men, and 58's comment in front of me and NP was "wow, this means all the dudes can have two girls each, eh?" Happy father's day, I guess!

At this point, since it'll become important later, I will honestly and seriously say that 58 seems to have some sort of cognitive problem. He can't usually follow conversations, and even though information was relayed to him, he had trouble either retaining it or processing it, and people usually have to repeat information several times to him before he gets it. So because I noticed this early on in the trip, I tried to be understanding for a long time.

I really tried my best to make this a great experience for them. With my limited Spanish, I was able to get some great deals and some hidden tours that aren't really known to many people yet; I have some fancy lounge access at all airports that lets me bring in unlimited number of guests, so 58 and NP were traveling in style with me, drinking free alcohol and munching on snacks on comfy sofas until boarding time; because I had a year to prepare, we all got great hotels at great prices, etc.

Nonetheless, the real trouble began about a week into our trip. My dad and I had gotten sick of the constant ATM hunting and trekking gear shopping, so we had told 58 and NP that we were going to split, see some sights, and since NP and I have roaming data plans, we'd figure out how to rendez-vous later.

I should have foreseen that 58 would not process this information at once. He somehow understood that we would come back in 15 minutes, and NP, although she understood what our plans were, didn't try to correct 58 (from what I've observed over the week, they don't have a great father-daughter chemistry, and have very little communication -- for example, when 58 was having a really rough time with altitude sickness on the Inca trail, NP was happily hiking at the front of the trip, a couple of hours ahead of her dad, and never once hiked alongside him during the 4 days). So apparently they waited for us in the freezing streets of Cusco for a long time. I'm told that 58 was already pissed at this point.

From here, things took a dramatic turn for the worse rather quickly.

We had just one key to the airbnb that we were staying in, which I had (frankly, didn't trust 58 to not lose it). But NP's phone died and she couldn't find her way back to our hotel for a long time (as they had no part in the trip planning, they had no idea which neighborhood the hotel was in; which landmarks were nearby, etc., although I had of course sent them all the info ages ago).

As a result, my dad and I were locked in our hotel for over an hour waiting for them, and NP and 58 were locked out for an hour. My dad and I eventually went out to take a walk and to hopefully run into them (maybe 20 minutes total) and during this time they came to the hotel, saw the door locked, and became even more pissed.

When they finally came back to the hotel, 58 (who is probably 6'4" to my 5'4") stormed directly in front of me, pointed a finger at my face, and screamed, I AM SO ANGRY, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, AND YOU CANNOT TREAT ME LIKE THIS, and proceed to have a temper tantrum for hours (I just locked myself in a room and my dad dealt with 58, during which 58 apparently asserted that the ATMs wouldn't give him enough money and it was my fault, the Peruvians don't speak English and it was my fault, I quoted all prices in USD and Peruvian soles and so I was not honest, NP's phone died and it was my fault, and they got lost and it was my fault). Essentially, he and NP told me that my plans were disorganized compared to 58's package Italy tour, and that I was a terrible person (for your reference, 58's Italy trip cost him $6k, his Peru trip cost him less than $2.5k). What a way to pour my year's efforts for this trip down the drain!

I had had enough, and I decided to take my revenge. With about 8 days to go in the trip, I announced to them that I would no longer travel with them, and that aside from the things that were already booked and paid for, they were on their own. 58 and NP both got very upset, understandably so, and NP made things worse by telling me that I should grow a thicker skin and that I should take this as a learning experience since surely someone else will get mad at me again, and that I cannot burn bridges so quickly like this.

Well, 58 and NP are having a learning experience of their lifetime, being thrown into a country that they have no knowledge of (since they didn't do any research or trip planning on Peru) and neither of them speak any Spanish. NP, an avid Instagrammer who was making 20+ updates while being with me and my dad, hasn't Instagrammed anything since we split. They also missed sights in Cusco such as the Salineras salt mines, Moray, the sun Temple, etc. They're also missing out big time in Lima, but since we still have about 20 hours left here, I won't list our plans here in case they see this (oh, I hope they do!)

Tomorrow our flight leaves at 2:40am from Lima, and 58 and NP will have to make a fun choice; either stay in Lima until around midnight (nights in Lima aren't exactly safe, especially for non-street-savvy travel n00bs) or wait at the uncomfortable and not-so-clean Lima airport for 6-7 hours. In the meantime, my dad and I will be chilling at a VIP lounge, have some free drinks, and try to catch a few winks before boarding. 58 and NP will definitely not be my guests.

Also, in case you're wondering, although 58 is my dad's coworker, my parents are also completely behind me on this; dad is incredibly pissed at 58 and will distance himself as far from 58 as office politics will allow, and has already told 58 that he crossed a line that should never have been crossed; 58 and his girlfriend have been wanting to get closer to my parents for ages and go camping together and whatnot, but my mom has firmly stated that she will never see 58's face ever again.

TL;DR: travel companions who completely relied on my trip planning (and couldn't even follow instructions) made the mistake of screaming at me for their own faults. So I ditched them in a random country that they know nothing about, and took away extra privileges that come with traveling with me (help with language barrier, VIP lounge access etc). If you have more ways to get revenge, let me know.

(source) (story by binbinbin3)

[prorevenge]

Insult me for my efforts? I'll ruin your holiday.

story data: very very long story. 4084 votes. %94 upvoted. very popular.

I'm on mobile, so sorry in advance for formatting/typos. I never thought that I'd post here but I've finally gotten my share of justice boner (although maybe not as pro as y'all'd like -- as it's still ongoing, suggestions are solicited)!

My dad and I have been planning to hike the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu for about a year, to start on father's day (he'll soon be 60 so I wanted to help him cross this item off his bucket list before he gets older).

A coworker of my dad's decided that he wanted to join in on this trip with his daughter, and as it was my first trip to South America, I thought there would be some strength in numbers in case we run into trouble, and I accepted.

My dad's coworker (let's call him 58 because that's his age as well as his IQ) has never traveled much aside from Italy (through a package tour), and was completely inexperienced in traveling solo. As we began to plan this trip, his answer to everything became "I'll just do whatever you guys are doing (read in your best idiot's voice)."

Whatever, I was determined to make this trip the best one for my dad, and it wasn't a big deal for me to make the reservations for 4 people instead of 2, so despite the fact that 58 and his daughter (let's call her NP, for Nachu Picchu, obviously) were not pulling any weight on the trip planning, I was glad to do it, and happy to help 58 and NP experience the world (NP has never traveled outside of her home country as far as I know).

Unfortunately, trouble began almost immediately. 58 has packed way too much and literally could not handle all of his luggage, leaving me and my dad to carry one of his bags atop our suitcase (he never once said thank you, and my dad was already pissed on day 1). Here are some of their lesser offenses:

- if you've ever traveled Peru, you might know that most first-time travelers follow the same path (often called the Gringo trail), starting in Lima and following a few very small but touristy towns (Paracas, Huacachina, Nazca). Our plan was to stay in these towns for 4 days, where there is no ATM access. So I wrote to 58 many weeks before the trip to bring at least $500-600 usd + 400 soles in cash, to pay for hotel and transportation as well as food, and wrote clearly that he will not see an ATM for 4 days. As soon as we landed in Lima airport, 58 announced that he had precisely $305 and a very low ATM withdrawal limit (around $200 per day). I knew we were in trouble then (we ended up lending him some money to make him shut up whining about money, which he ended up doing daily)

- from that day onwards, 58 began harassing me about ATM every day despite the fact that I have told him that there won't be any ATMs (keep in mind that I'm his co-worker's daughter... Have some dignity maybe?)

- 58 also complained constantly that the Peruvians don't speak English, and that he had no trouble communicating in English on his package trip to Italy. Umm... Sorry for not having taught all the Peruvians English?

- Despite his massive luggage size, both 58 and NP didn't pack everything that they needed for the Inca Trail, and they wanted to spend an entire day shopping for trekking gears. To give you an idea of what these people are like, 58 needed a rubber end to his trekking pole, and wanted our help in finding a store that sells it. When my dad pointed out a store that had hiking sticks on display, he cried out in his whiny idiotic voice "I want the rubber end, not the hiking sticks!" *rolls eyes*

-At the Inca Trail, our hiking group was about 10 women and 5 men, and 58's comment in front of me and NP was "wow, this means all the dudes can have two girls each, eh?" Happy father's day, I guess!

At this point, since it'll become important later, I will honestly and seriously say that 58 seems to have some sort of cognitive problem. He can't usually follow conversations, and even though information was relayed to him, he had trouble either retaining it or processing it, and people usually have to repeat information several times to him before he gets it. So because I noticed this early on in the trip, I tried to be understanding for a long time.

I really tried my best to make this a great experience for them. With my limited Spanish, I was able to get some great deals and some hidden tours that aren't really known to many people yet; I have some fancy lounge access at all airports that lets me bring in unlimited number of guests, so 58 and NP were traveling in style with me, drinking free alcohol and munching on snacks on comfy sofas until boarding time; because I had a year to prepare, we all got great hotels at great prices, etc.

Nonetheless, the real trouble began about a week into our trip. My dad and I had gotten sick of the constant ATM hunting and trekking gear shopping, so we had told 58 and NP that we were going to split, see some sights, and since NP and I have roaming data plans, we'd figure out how to rendez-vous later.

I should have foreseen that 58 would not process this information at once. He somehow understood that we would come back in 15 minutes, and NP, although she understood what our plans were, didn't try to correct 58 (from what I've observed over the week, they don't have a great father-daughter chemistry, and have very little communication -- for example, when 58 was having a really rough time with altitude sickness on the Inca trail, NP was happily hiking at the front of the trip, a couple of hours ahead of her dad, and never once hiked alongside him during the 4 days). So apparently they waited for us in the freezing streets of Cusco for a long time. I'm told that 58 was already pissed at this point.

From here, things took a dramatic turn for the worse rather quickly.

We had just one key to the airbnb that we were staying in, which I had (frankly, didn't trust 58 to not lose it). But NP's phone died and she couldn't find her way back to our hotel for a long time (as they had no part in the trip planning, they had no idea which neighborhood the hotel was in; which landmarks were nearby, etc., although I had of course sent them all the info ages ago).

As a result, my dad and I were locked in our hotel for over an hour waiting for them, and NP and 58 were locked out for an hour. My dad and I eventually went out to take a walk and to hopefully run into them (maybe 20 minutes total) and during this time they came to the hotel, saw the door locked, and became even more pissed.

When they finally came back to the hotel, 58 (who is probably 6'4" to my 5'4") stormed directly in front of me, pointed a finger at my face, and screamed, I AM SO ANGRY, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, AND YOU CANNOT TREAT ME LIKE THIS, and proceed to have a temper tantrum for hours (I just locked myself in a room and my dad dealt with 58, during which 58 apparently asserted that the ATMs wouldn't give him enough money and it was my fault, the Peruvians don't speak English and it was my fault, I quoted all prices in USD and Peruvian soles and so I was not honest, NP's phone died and it was my fault, and they got lost and it was my fault). Essentially, he and NP told me that my plans were disorganized compared to 58's package Italy tour, and that I was a terrible person (for your reference, 58's Italy trip cost him $6k, his Peru trip cost him less than $2.5k). What a way to pour my year's efforts for this trip down the drain!

I had had enough, and I decided to take my revenge. With about 8 days to go in the trip, I announced to them that I would no longer travel with them, and that aside from the things that were already booked and paid for, they were on their own. 58 and NP both got very upset, understandably so, and NP made things worse by telling me that I should grow a thicker skin and that I should take this as a learning experience since surely someone else will get mad at me again, and that I cannot burn bridges so quickly like this.

Well, 58 and NP are having a learning experience of their lifetime, being thrown into a country that they have no knowledge of (since they didn't do any research or trip planning on Peru) and neither of them speak any Spanish. NP, an avid Instagrammer who was making 20+ updates while being with me and my dad, hasn't Instagrammed anything since we split. They also missed sights in Cusco such as the Salineras salt mines, Moray, the sun Temple, etc. They're also missing out big time in Lima, but since we still have about 20 hours left here, I won't list our plans here in case they see this (oh, I hope they do!)

Tomorrow our flight leaves at 2:40am from Lima, and 58 and NP will have to make a fun choice; either stay in Lima until around midnight (nights in Lima aren't exactly safe, especially for non-street-savvy travel n00bs) or wait at the uncomfortable and not-so-clean Lima airport for 6-7 hours. In the meantime, my dad and I will be chilling at a VIP lounge, have some free drinks, and try to catch a few winks before boarding. 58 and NP will definitely not be my guests. And maybe a couple of you good redditors would recognize 58 or NP and have a few laughs behind their backs.

Also, in case you're wondering, although 58 is my dad's coworker, my parents are also completely behind me on this; dad is incredibly pissed at 58 and will distance himself as far from 58 as office politics will allow, and has already told 58 that he crossed a line that should never have been crossed; 58 and his girlfriend have been wanting to get closer to my parents for ages and go camping together and whatnot, but my mom has firmly stated that she will never see 58's face ever again.

Tl;dr travel companions who completely relied on my trip planning (and couldn't even follow instructions) made the mistake of screaming at me for their own faults. So I ditched them in a random country that they know nothing about, and took away extra privileges that come with traveling with me (help with language barrier, VIP lounge access etc). If you have more ways to get revenge, let me know

(source) (story by binbinbin3)