rSlash - r/Maliciouscompliance I Gave My Boss My Dirty Panties

Episode Date: June 19, 2021

r/Maliciouscompliance In today's episode, OP causes one of her managers to get fired. This leads to all of the other managers retaliating against her by constantly subjecting her to "random" locker searches. You wanna search OP's locker? No problem! OP makes sure that they are really going to regret searching through her locker. First, she stores thousands of pennies in her locker, which the manager has to count out to make sure she isn't stealing. When that doesn't work, she ups the stakes by keeping her dirtiest of dirty laundry in her locker. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where I read the best posts from a cross-reddit. Today's subreddit is R-Slash malicious compliance, where OP hands her boss a pair of her dirty underwear. Our next reddit posted from Little Miss Bunny Woman. I worked in an office about a 45-minute drive from my house. I had a friend who worked in the office and I would give them a ride home. I would literally have to pass by her house on my way to and from work, so it was no big deal. Well, a woman who worked in my office lived really close to my friend, and she found out about my arrangement and wanted in. She guilt tripped my friend into asking, and since it was on my way,

I agreed. Well, at the same time, my late husband's car was in the shop, so I would make a D-tour to pick him up, and he's a giant of a man standing six foot three. He physically couldn't fit in the back seat. So to make things easier my friend would just sit in the back. Well the other woman, Karen was a big woman. Not tall, but big. So literally the first time of me giving her a ride she tries to get in the front seat. And I tried to explain to her why she has to sit in the back. When I park at my husband's job site, Karen jumps out of the car and moves to their front seat. I tell her to go back to the back seat and she says no because the seat belt in the back is so tight that it hurts her chest. I tell her that's too bad and she can

exit my car if she doesn't like it. Well, Karen gets out and moves to the backseat. My husband gets in the car, and when I start the car, the seatbelt warning light is on and beeping. Karen is not wearing her seatbelt. I tell her you have to put your seatbelt on. I am, she says, no, I can't. It would be easier if I was in the front seat.

Well, I say that you're in the back seat, and we're not going anywhere until you put your seat belt on. She crossed her arms like a child and said, well, I guess we're not going anywhere then. I told her that if she doesn't put on a seat belt, then she can walk home. With a nice bit of snark, she says, well, you better call me a taxi then.

That pissed me off. So that's what I did. I call me a taxi then. That pissed me off. So that's what I did. I called her a taxi. She put her seatbelt back on, but I said that it's too late now. You have a taxi coming, so you can either get out of my car or off the police get you out of my car. They'll be happy to remove you. She got out of the car, and her jaw almost hit the road as we

drove away. Outside of my friend, I never let anyone else from my work in my car again. Down in the comments, we have this story from Kefirella. The very first time I was supposed to drive my in-laws, they got in the back seat and just sat there. So, I just sat there. Finally, my boyfriend asked me why I'm not starting the car. I say because your parents haven't put their seat belts on yet. They didn't inform me that they don't wear seat belts if they're in the back seat. I tell them that I don't drive with unrestrained passengers. My boyfriend tells me it's okay.

I can just drive. It's fine. No, it's not. They can either buckle up or find their own way. Everyone is now glaring at me, so I reach into my purse, pull out the book that I'd been reading, and settle in. Fine, fine, they buckle up. I put the book away and start driving.

But it was all just too much for his dad, who starts muttering about pointless rules and safety stuff that doesn't even make sense, and how the hell is he going to go through the windshield of his in the back? Don't I know that Seatbelts are just to keep someone from going through the windshield? Why the hell am I insisting he wear a seatbelt when he couldn't possibly end up hitting the windshield anyway? I didn't even address the part where I had a childhood friend who undid her seatbelt to get comfy in the back seat, and she was thrown through her mother's windshield. My friend misbeing paralyzed by millimeters.

I told my father-in-law that he weighed at least 250 pounds, if not a full 300 pounds. And my issue wasn't with him destroying my windshield. My issue was with him hitting me with that sort of unrestrained did wait. Sir, I don't care if you die. I care if you take me out along with you. Our next Reddit post is from Hope on Life Support. This story is from a dinner party that I hosted before the pandemic. I invited six people, and shortly after the invites were sent, I received a call from Sally. Sally advised me that she was now on a soul-free diet due to medical reasons. She advised

that at her home she cooked without any salt and gave me a speech about how wonderful salt-free life was. I was skeptical, and I told her that I would personally find it difficult to give up all salt. Was she sure that she wasn't just on a low sodium diet? Sally said that unless her dish was salt-free, she would not be attending. Telling her no was an option, but I am not that person. I had been pissed off at Sally for years due to her being difficult at dinner tables and restaurants. Trust me, there was always something wrong with her meal, or its preparation, or the flavor, or the waiter, or whatever. With a smile so large that you could hear it through the phone,

I assured her that her request for a salt-free meal was 100% going to be accommodated. So on dinner night I prepped the meal. Sally was getting the same thing as everyone else with one critical difference. Oliver Food was prepped in separate containers, baked on separate racks, and seasoned with exactly the same flavors, just no salt. It's dinner time in my guests' arrive. I have all of Sally's food plated on white plates, and everyone else gets great plates. First round, appetizers. Fried calamari with a lemon jalapeno butter sauce.

This dish typically has salt in both the batter and the sauce. Since Sally couldn't have salt, I battered her calamari and salt-free seasoning and flour. Her condiment looked exactly the same, but it was made with unsalted butter and no added salt. I play Sally's plate in front of her, and she immediately states that she asked for a salt-free dish. I assure her that her dish is salt-free, and I made sure to cook her separate and even use a different color plate to keep it straight. We also down to talk and enjoy the squid. Sally takes a bite of her food and makes a face.

Might has no flavor, she exclaims. All of my other guest tell Sally the food is divine, delicious, the best they've ever had. I smile at Sally, and assure her that her dish was flavored exactly as everyone else's. The only difference is that she received absolutely no salt. It's at this point that Sally has a moment of clarity. It's painfully obvious on her face. She realizes that she can't complain about the lack of salt because she already told

everyone else at the table about her salt-free life. She also can't claim that it tastes terrible if everyone else is raving about the food. She literally looks like she was about to cry at the table. While my other guests are enjoying dinner, Sally is slowly pushing the calamari around her plate like a toddler playing with her food. After a few moments, she reaches for the sauce that I made for everyone else. Sally, I say, be careful, the salt-free sauce is in the white ball. That one has salt. She mumbled something about wanting to taste a difference before literally dumping the bowl in her calamari. She then explained how much better it tasted.

Well, of course it does. Everything tastes better with salt. So this drama repeated itself over the main course of honey roasted salmon with pine nuts. I'm also no heathen and I had both salt and pepper shakers on the table for my guests. Sally takes a bite of her fish and once again realizes that it has no salt. She reaches for the salt shaker and conversation stops. Another guest asked Sally if she was okay with adding salt to her food. Sally says that she can occasionally have salt. She proceeds to shower her fish with salt. I also baked some cookies for dessert.

The dough has a little salt in it, so I made sure to whip up a separate batch of salt-free cookies just for her. When I handed her those cookies, the look of defeat on her face warmed my heart. Dinner was over, and everyone was happy, except for Sally. I called her the next week to make sure that she was okay because she had consumed sodium at my party. Sally told me that her doctor had removed her sodium restrictions, and she won't need that accommodation in future meals.

On the phone, I can graduate her for her good health. When I hang up, I laugh until my side's hurt. Salt-free life apparently doesn't taste that good when salt is actually omitted. So out of curiosity, I looked it up and you literally can't live on a zero salt diet. Apparently, your muscles need sodium defunctions. So if you have zero salt in your diet, then

eventually you'll start having seizures and die. So when Sally said that she was on a zero salt diet, we completely know that she was full of BS. Our next reddit post is from Bear J.C. Several years ago, I worked at Front Desk at a privately owned hotel that had been a days and five years prior. The only way to book a reservation was to talk to the front desk staff. No online reservations, no third party reservations. About 50% of our rooms were sold to walk-ins. One holiday weekend, we were booked full. Our ancient elevator is having trouble with all the foot traffic, so I closed the elevator

and called for a repairman, but it was 10 o'clock at night, so I wasn't expecting anyone until the next morning. All of our guests are checked in, and our accessibility rooms are on the same floor as the lobby, so I'll just help anyone out with their luggage if they need it. In walks a woman that I don't recognize from check-in. She plops a piece of paper in front of me and then goes and gets a lot of luggage. The paper shows her with a reservation at days in, at this address for tonight, for a tenth of the price that we were selling before we were fully booked. She comes back to the desk, likely thinking that I've been checking her in all this time. I say, I regret to inform you that we do not accept third-party reservations. We're unfortunately already booked for the night.

I do have a reservation. It's right there. I paid good money for it. Ma'am, I believe you, but unfortunately you're not in our system because we don't take third-party reservations. They sold this to you fraudulently. You're just trying to steal my money. I have a confirmation number right there. I handed it to you.

Yes, ma'am. You handed me a reservation to a day's end, but we are not days in, and I gesture to our assigned. Also, this is for a fourth floor room, and we only have three floors. I stated this day's end last year on the fourth floor. This argument continues for a while with me keeping my cool, informing her that we're all booked. that all of her rooms are full. With me insisting that we don't even have a fourth floor, we're not a days in, and we don't even take third party reservations.

Eventually, she screams at me that I'm going to take her to her room on the fourth floor that she paid for right now. I don't respond. I just stare at her with a blank face until she slaps the desk and screams. NO! So, I grab my huge key ring and we both load ourselves up with her excessive luggage and climb the stairs. Once we get to the third floor, I gesture to the third floor sign and tell her that this is the third floor.

I then use my maintenance keys to unlock the door to the maintenance stairs, which are not lit, and she charges up behind me not saying anything. I open the door to the TARD roof of our building and walk outside. I say, here is the fourth floor. I hope it's as nice as the last time you stayed here. I drop her luggage and go down the stairs back to the front desk. Honestly, had she been nicer to me, I would have tried to help her get a room in a different hotel and submit documentation to try to get her a refund.

But since she screamed at me, I loved her and her luggage on the roof. Plus, she insisted that she stayed on the fourth floor, so that's what she got. Our next Reddit post is from Stitch Converse. Many years ago, I worked for an outdoor activity center in a retail department. Throughout the park, there were many different shops that we manned, and I absolutely loved working there, despite it being hard work and little pay. One day I had a run-in with a manager who seriously berated me in front of the entire team, along with others from different departments.

A second manager told me to file a formal complaint about the first manager, which I did. Other co-workers came out with similar complaints, and that manager was told to find employment elsewhere, but he wasn't fired yet. Now unbeknownst to me, I triggered a chain of events that would lead to me leaving the company. Now, before I get to the main story, there's some background info that's relevant to my malicious compliance. There were a few rules in place that were designed to prevent theft, including no more

than 10 pounds to be allowed on the shop floor, which was checked before your shift. Anything over that amount had to be declared to management and left in your locker, and all staff had to agree to random locker and pocket searches. In the two years that I'd worked there, I'd never been picked for a random search. There were several hundred employees, so the odds were incredibly slim. As soon as our disgrace manager left, I suddenly found myself picked at random for a search. This involved turning out my pockets for moving my shoes and socks and then being escorted to the locker room to empty the contents out. Nothing was found, so I was sent

back to the shop floor. The following week, was again picked up random for a search which again turned up nothing. Rumors were soon going around that I had upset my department's remaining management team after instigating the action against my former manager and they were going to try to force me out using any means necessary. I realized that I needed to act so I started job hunting and then began my malicious compliance. I started taking a backpack to work filled with 20 pounds in pennies. Every morning I declared the amount in my locker as required, and sure enough after a couple of days I was once again selected for my weekly random search.

I got paid to watch the security guard and supervisor count out 2,000 pennies. As expected, I passed the search and off I went. This happened a second time with 30 pounds in pennies, so I decided to up my game. At the start of the following week, I patiently awaited my random search with glee knowing what awaited them. The day arrived, and I was marched off to the lockers ready for their treat. I pull out my backpack and pass it to the security guard and supervisor, who dived right in without any gloves on. Oh, how they rest when they discovered what was in there. I had several pairs of my period soaked panties waiting in there, especially for them. They were gingerly laid on the floor beside my bag as they

counted my bag of pennies. The smell from the pants was unreal. They'd been festering in there for days in anticipation. Once again, the search revealed nothing and off to work I went. After that, I was not picked for another random search. I kept in touch with a couple of people and I discovered that they introduced a new rule that would try to dictate what you couldn't take to work with you. This soon led to a mass walkout of staff, and after a year, the place shut down due to unrelated matters. That was our slash malicious compliance, and if you liked this content, you can subscribe

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