rSlash - r/Maliciouscompliance "I WANT IT EXTRA SPICY!" "lol ok"

Episode Date: September 2, 2022

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Welcome to our slash malicious compliance where a bunch of guys decide to mess with the IT girl. Our next reddit post is from Fluffy Fluffy Cake. In the early 90s, I worked for an international airline company in the IT department as desktop support. I was the first woman in IT for that company and most companies in my country back then. The company was located at an international airport and the company was housed in many buildings in airplane hangar spread across and around the airport. The buildings that I serviced were mainly the hangars meant for airplane maintenance. Every six weeks we would order all the requested IT equipment, stuff like specialized printers, computers, terminals, etc. My job was to take the equipment, set it up,

and have the person responsible for that equipment sign off on it. If it wasn't signed off for whatever reason, the equipment came back with me, would be returned to the vendor and had to be reordered by the department. Being a woman in her early 20s in a male-oriented profession and dealing mostly with airplane maintenance men, I had to deal with a lot of misogyny. From snickering men having set up their computers that I was supposed to service with hardcore adult images, to men refusing to let me touch their computers, and demanding I get a male colleague to do it. Most of the time, I just pretended not to have seen or heard what was going on. Then, I would just finish setting up their hardware, have it

signed off, and leave. Until one day, when I had enough of their BS. That day I had a trolley with me stacked with a bunch of printers in one laptop. Back then, only management got a laptop, and if someone got a laptop, it was kind of a big deal. Remember, I'm talking back in the Windows 3.11 era. I walked into the airplane hanger with my full card, setting up printers while a team of airplane maintenance dudes were servicing a cargo plane. The minute I walked in, there was cat calling, whistling, and, hey baby, were you going with all that heavy equipment? As usual, I just ignored them and plowed on so I could get the hell out of there. When I was done with the printers, I had to go find the manager

who had ordered the laptop and get it set up for him. Airplane hangers are weird places. They seem like one giant space with class offices off to the side, but they do have all these little nooks and crannies that seem like nothing, but are actually small offices or storage spaces. It's hard to find the right place sometimes. So I walk up to a bunch of maintenance guys that are just about to take a break and I ask them where I can find the manager. One of them goes, hey baby, you done with all the heavy stuff?

I'd like a black coffee with sugar and my colleague here wants an espresso. To the 5 or 6 other guys, this was hilarious and they started shooting off how they wanted their coffees. One of them actually brought out a tray and handed it to me, telling me to be quick about it. I had just about had enough, and a thunder cloud must have been forming around my head because Mr. Manager Guy, who had just walked around the corner, snickers, and goes, oh, what's up, sweetie? Got your period? Of course,

the other guys hardly laughed at this. I asked Mr. Manager Guy if he wanted coffee too, in which kind. I can't remember what kind of coffee he wanted, but I took my cart with a laptop on it, drove to the coffee machine, made all the coffees, drove it back over and handed everyone their coffee order. When I handed Mr. Manager Guy his coffee, he said, Okay honey, let's go, I'll show you my office so you can set up my new laptop. I looked him in the eye, smiled, and told him, I can't because I'm late for my next appointment with all these coffee orders, so I really have to run.

Unfortunately, your laptop will have to be returned, and you'll have to reorder one. So I'll see you in six weeks. Bye! Of course, he tried to tell me how he really needed that laptop now, and the coffee thing was all in good fun, and I shouldn't be so sensitive. Blah, blah, blah. When I just kept walking off with my cart, it turned ugly really fast. He said that I was a B word, and he was going to have me fired. And did I have any idea who he was?

I just silently chucked everything in the car and drove off with him screaming after me. He did try to get me fired, but my manager had my back, and also made sure that his order was delayed a few times just to teach him a lesson. When I finally delivered his laptop four months later, he was very respectful though. Unfortunately, that wasn't the last time that I had to deal with that kind of garbage. Alright, I'm just imagining like, six guys standing around like some tools being like, hey guys, do you want to mess with the IT person? This can't possibly come back to bite us in the butt.

Our next Reddit post is from Optimal Dead Co. This happened today. I work as a waiter during the summer in a local restaurant. It's popular among tourists, but not so much among local people, which means that we have to deal with a lot of different people. Most dishes are international ones available everywhere, but some are local from our specific culture. Today I had a table with American tourists. They were polite at first, but then got pissy when we didn't take their order fast enough. We read full capacity. I finally managed to get to them and was met with, as an American, I shouldn't be waiting that much.

We liberated you. Disclaimer, they didn't. I just sucked it up and asked what they would like to order. Our menu was available in English, but with transliteration and not direct translation. They butchered everything, but that's pretty common, so I don't mind. The final item was very, very spicy. I would never eat it myself. I warned them, but in reply I got,

don't you dare tell me what to eat. A minimum wage worker should just write down our order and serve us. God knows why you people have rights. Even though he is right that I'm a minimum wage worker, his audacity triggered something inside of me. I just placed their order and made sure the cooks kept it as spicy as the original recipe. They kept getting pissy about slow service and made some comments about me and the restaurant. I served them their order and was waiting for the inevitable

screaming match. They started screaming that we were trying to injure them and the man started cussing at us. I told them that I tried to warn them but they just kept cussing. When our manager told them to get out, they said, we're taking you to court, see you in New York. Yeah, right. They were forced to pay and swore to never come back. And down in the comments, we have this story from Tartosaurus. This reminds me of when I was standing in the ticket line at Versailles. Some Texan, I assume, he was wearing a tin gallon cowboy hat at the counter-sart yelling. Does anybody here speak F in English? I said, I do. He tells the woman at the counter to repeat herself. She does, and then she asks me what she said.

I have no idea. I don't speak French. Our next reddit post is from my name is Fiefield. So I've never been a manager before, but I had my bachelor's degree in management. I just started working at a new restaurant. I've worked at several corporate companies before, but this place was a second store of a mom and pop company. I've always been a server before, but this time I was hired as a bartender. In the interview, the two

owners tell me they're looking to make the place more professional and turn some things around. I got hired on the spot to come in the next day. I came in and no one knows anything. I'm not on the schedule, my trainer is late, there isn't a manager, and the owners are nowhere to be found. When I actually start late, there isn't a manager, and the owners are nowhere to be found. When I actually start working, I'm just thrown in, expected to make drinks, take orders, know the kitchen, everything. No biggie, I jump in and do what I gotta do.

Some highlights. The staff are drinking alcoholic drinks on the job, not measuring any liquor, giving out free drinks, not checking IDs, and they close the restaurant two hours early. The next day, the only server scheduled for the dinnership is running late. The morning server asked me to fill in until he gets here, so I end up just covering the entire floor of about 10 tables by myself on my second day in training. The owners tell me over the phone how awesome I am for jumping in and covering this, and

I'm exactly what they need to fix the restaurant. On day 3, they call me into the office to check in and see how everything's going. I tell them that I need recipes for their drinks since only one bartender knows their recipes. They ask me what I've noticed the other bartenders doing wrong, and I tell them. I honestly tell them about the lack of controls, the lack of recipe cards, and closing early. They blame everything on the bartenders and thank me. They tell me that I need to keep an eye out and stay in touch with what's going on at the bar. Cue malicious compliance.

I straight up tell them that the real problem is the lack of management. That if they want recipe cards, training procedures, or drink standards, then they need to either do it themselves or pay a manager to do it for them. I said it's not the bartenders fault that these things are wrong and they need to step up. After a long, unproductive, and unprofessional conversation, the owner told me to get out of his restaurant right now and never come back. So I did. And I took the other two bartenders on shift with me, leaving them with no one in the restaurant to serve.

They tried to tell me that I was too ignorant to run a restaurant, but now they get to figure out how to run their own restaurants. Well, it has stupid conversations. Oh my god, these people. Okay, so we're hiring you because we want you to figure out what's wrong with our restaurant. Okay, the problem is you. Excuse me? You're fired!

Our next reddit post is from Carib's suit. Years ago, I sold my first motorcycle. It was a good bike, but since it was my first motorcycle, I had laid it down a couple of times doing stupid stuff, so it wasn't perfect. I took good care of it, though, and I always replaced damaged or scratched pieces because I didn't want it wasn't perfect. I took good care of it though, and I always replaced damaged or scratched pieces because I didn't want it to look bad. Well, except for the left side of the engine, aka the stator cover. The sides of most motorcycle engines will often make contact with the ground to get scratched up if the bike slides on its

side, which mine did on several occasions. I'd replace the stator cover before and I didn't wanna go through that again, even though it's only a $120 parts. Plus, the scrapes weren't that bad and I could live with them. So I list my bike for sale, show it to a few people, and along comes a dad with his young adult son. Now, the dad, being an older and wiser writer, knew that this was a really good deal.

He was looking at my first bike that had been gently crashed before, which I was fully upfront about, so it was an easy bargain, right? I was pretty firm on my asking price for one simple reason. I was going to throw in all the brand new parts, accessories, and maintenance items that I had accumulated for this bike. A couple of oil filters, a case of oil, brake pads, a new stator cover, and even a busted engine that had a lot of good parts in it. But if, and only if they paid my asking price, this was easily over 300 bucks in parts excluding the engine. The dad of the buyer played the bad cop in the scenario, pointing out things that he thought could give him some bargaining power, and then, of course, made a lower offer. I entertain the offer, but at the same time told him my condition about

getting the spare parts. We don't need the spare parts. I counteroffered, explaining that my asking price was already very competitive given the condition of the bike. We settled on 100 bucks less than my asking price, so they left with only the bike and none of the parts. A few days go by, and the buyer reaches back out to me to ask if they can come by to pick up the stator cover, for free, to replace the scratch one that was on the bike. I replied with, sorry, I'm gonna sell to make up for the discount that I gave you on the motorcycle. A replacement stator cover costs more than the 100 bucks they saved on the purchase. But if they had just paid me the 100 bucks, then they would have gotten the cover plus like $200 worth of other parts.

Our next Reddit post is from Psycho Mouse. At the time of the story, my wife and I were dating, and we decided to go watch a baseball game as a nice date. Well, this happened to be a special baseball game. By around the end of the fourth inning, I'd say that there were a good eight or so foul balls that went into the audience. After like ball nine, I loudly exclaimed, Jesus Christ, because the amount of pop flies was insane. This lady who was one row in front of us turns around and says, do not take the Lord's name in vain. Say anything else but that in a very upset tone of voice. So, not five minutes later,

there's another fly ball. I shout, like loudly shout, *** my *** sideways, another one! She just turned around to face me and gave me a look of pure anger and disgust. She ended up never saying another word to me. She just took off after the game. It's not as epic as some people's stories on this sub, but it's a story that my wife and I still talk and laugh about to this day, 10 days later. Right, because it's perfectly reasonable of her to assume that in a professional sports game, nobody's gonna cuss.

Our next reddit post is from Emperor Buttman. My BFF and I travel on a budget, and the nameless budget airline in question has a strict one bag, one personal item per person policy when you don't check a suitcase. We're on the return flight out, and before they even let us through to the X-ray machines, we have a security guard in our face telling us that we're violating policy. However, we each only have one bag, and only one of us has a personal item, a tote bag. This guy's clearly got a problem, and when I cite the actual policy, he insists that it's a baggage item.

So I did what any normal person would do. I donned the bathrobe and cat theme neck pillow, fold up the tote and stick it in one of our bags. This man is still clearly on a power trip, so now he sends us to another colleague to measure our backs. They fit the measurements perfectly. And as soon as we walk through his gate and hit the real security, I take off the neck pillow and bathrobe and stick them back into the back. It was so satisfying to see the guy bite his tongue from the other side. That was our Slash Malicious Compliance, and if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.

That was our Slash Malicious Compliance, and if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.