rSlash - r/Maliciouscompliance Mr. Rogers' Revenge

Episode Date: March 5, 2020

r/Maliciouscompliance Ever wonder how Mr. Rogers would get revenge? Probably like the guy in this story! A couple of sucky neighbors act like douchebags by throwing all of their garbage into their kind neighbor's yards. So, the sweet neighbor turns all of their trash into compost and then politely asks them for more! If you like this video and want to see more, hit the subscribe button! Watch on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p75368n2Lok Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Your business has grown fast, from opening your first location to planning an expansion in no time. And with your business platinum card from American Express, you can access spending power and payment flexibility to fuel your growth. Sarah, the contractor is here with the plans. American Express, don't do business without it. Terms and conditions apply visit mx.ca slash business platinum. Welcome to our slash malicious compliance where Mr. Rodgers enacts malicious compliance. So this isn't my story but my fathers. My dad is a now retired police officer which he did for 30 years.

Over the years, he's worked patrol, undercover as a detective, and as part of a DEA task force back in the 90s. About five years ago, he transferred to the local sheriff's department and once again returned to being a regular patrol officer. If you don't know or you live outside the US, sheriffs are elected as part of local elections. During the 2018 election, our local sheriff had reached the maximum terms he could serve, leading to an open election. The one who ended up winning was a person my dad was not the biggest fan of. Prior to his election, officers could have a mustache and a goatee,

as long as it was well-capped not too long. But one of the first things that was changed was the facial hair policy. The new policy said that facial hair could not be grown past the edge of your lips, but it forgot one piece of the original policy that was important. The length. So here's what my dad did to piss off his new boss. He started growing a handle bar mustache. It didn't grow past his lips, but it was long enough that he could shape it with beardwax into a handle bar that was frankly huge.

The hymns reached to his ears when he didn't put wax in it. Well, this policy change didn't just affect my dad. Many of the officers had go teased and were already a bit annoyed with the new boss. So about another 10 officers decided to join my dad in growing out Handlebar Mustaches as well. In a department of 25 officers, almost half were rocking Handlebar Mustaches while going on patrol. Eventually, the new sheriff decided that the Handlebar Mustaches were getting out of hand

and finally relented and reinstated the old policy. My dad had grown his mustache out for two months and I watched him quite literally cry when he shaved it, but he got his favorite facial hair to be allowed again. I'm trying to imagine driving on the interstate and getting pulled over and two cops get out of the car and they're both rocking a handlebar moustaches or better yet you're in a high speed chase and there are like eight cop cars behind you and suddenly 10 cops pour out of the cars and they're all wearing handlebar moustaches that would be the weirdest experience. Our next reddit post is from cheesy llama.

This is a story about my dad that happened 2 to 3 years ago to clarify both my parents are doctors and hospitals in a small role part of my country. Yes, hospitals plural. One is a normal one, the other is a psychiatric one. Because of that, they're the only specialist in their respective domains in a radius of about 80 kilometers. So if they want some free time, they need to specify it long before, like even 2-3 months for a day off.

Basically, we planned our vacations a year in advance so the hospitals could get substitutes in time. Now, as we always did, in September, my parents had specified when they went in their two free weeks. Hotels were chosen and paid for, etc. etc. Almost a year later, not even a week before our vacation was supposed to start, my dad came home like a zombie. The hospital HR told them that they didn't find a substitute, so because of this special case, which isn't special according to a friend who's a lawyer, he had to stay at work for one more week and join us later. We were completely bummed because of that, but we weren't going to be outdone by that.

My dad brought the entire coat of the hospital home and we looked everywhere to find something that would let us take our dad with us. There was nothing until my mother started laughing at the table and she showed us something. She found out about a certain clause under which when this special case line was used, the worker was treated and most importantly paid as the sub. That basically means that you can dictate your pay as long as it's suitable for such specialists. That means 700 to 1500 euros for a day of work.

Double that if you're on call, then double that if it happens to be a Sunday. That's why subs were never allowed to be on call. Queue the malicious compliance. My dad took every possible on-call duty for the entire week which he was forced to work. The number stacked up fast since one of these days was a Sunday on call. My dad said that he was never more delighted when he knocked on the director's door to tell him how much he was owed.

They completely forgot about that rule, and the director could only stamp and sign the approval all while making a gaping fish face. It came to almost 30,000 euros for a week's worth of work. As the final nail on the coffin your dad should have said, oh and by the way, be sure to thank HR for giving me all this over time. That was really nice of them. Our next Reddit post is from Argasch. I was cleaning out my home office today and stumbled across paperwork I'd save for whatever reason from a sucky call center job I worked at 15 years ago. This was an outbound sales thing and it was non-stop calls all day. Needless

to say, the job sucked. With the constant talking though, your voice would start cracking throughout the day if you didn't hydrate, so I would bring jugs of water to sit on all day long. This, of course, meant frequent trips to the bathroom. I never abused these trips because they were always 3 minutes or less, but, of course, this wasn't good enough for management. Oh no. One day my manager demanded I get a doctor's note if I wanted to pee at any time other than one of my two regularly scheduled breaks. I could tell she was convinced I wouldn't do it. I scheduled the appointment and filled the doctor in who thought

it was hilarious that this manager either, didn't understand biology, or two, was on a huge power trip. He provided me with the most condescending doctor's note ever. Then OP posted picture of a doctor's note that was dated from 2005 to whom it made concern. This letter concerns my patient, Blank. Blank requires a lot of fluid and tink while talking on the phone in order to avoid drying out and becoming horse. When he drinks this much fluid, he must urinate every 60-90 minutes. Please excuse these brief visits to the bathroom as they're unavoidable. Sincerely, Greg Luxinger, MD. Needless to say, she was not happy.

My co-workers, though, all made trips to the same doctor and got similar notes. Pretty sure I wore a sh**t eating grin every time I walked to the bathroom after that. That's why every doctor goes to medical school. Not to say people's lives, but to make sure their right to pee is protected. Our next Reddit post is from Apocalypse Amy. I worked as a bank teller. The other tellers were all female. Our sales and service manager expected us to greet customers warmly the second they

entered from across the bank. Hello there! Hi! Welcome to US Bank! It was even turned into a competition. When he heard or noticed tellers greeting customers, he gave them a point on his tally. My greeting strategy was to wait for initial eye contact after they entered the building and began approaching my window, then say hello and a friendly way, and give a polite little

head nod and smile. This was apparently unsatisfactory. I was talked to because I wasn't bubbly enough. It was pointed out to me how well the other tellers were greeting people walking in. How many points they had all accumulated, and I was told I needed to be more like my female co-workers. This sounded great in theory, but I'm a 6'4, 290 pound male, and I knew it would be easy to show them the error of their ways.

The next person entering the bank received a bellowing sing songy From 60 feet away with a dozen people in between to say that it startled everyone in the bank would be an understatement I was informed my polite hello and not would be fine going forward Then we get some interesting insight from debom down in the comments going forward. Then we get some interesting insight from debombed down in the comments. Not sure if OPs Bank or other banks do it for this reason, but I work as a teller and we were trained to greet people as soon as they walked in the door for security reasons. Management wanted people coming in to know that employees were aware of them and paying attention to them. I think the thought was that it would deter potential bank robbers who were trying to avoid drawing attention. Your bellowing, sing-songy voice would certainly be one way to deter robbers.

Our next Reddit post is from Too Tired to Care. I work in a popular discount store. We get well-known brands for really, really low prices, and customers question if they're authentic. They are, they're just out of season or didn't sell well. So onto the story. It was early morning and not many customers were shopping. I have a customer come up and this is the following conversation.

So I had this Calvin Klein shirt but the price tag fell off. It's $10. That brand usually doesn't go for that price but I would be happy to check for you. There's no more over there. This was the last one. Well then I'll just look up a generic price for you. I's no more over there. This was the last one. Well then I'll just look up a generic price for you. I look it up and the generic price for designer tops are 21 bucks. The shirt will be 21 bucks. That's not the correct price. I explained to her that if I go find one in the floor it would probably be more expensive but she insists that I do it. I go on to the floor and find the same shirt and end up being $25.

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I scanned the tag, and of course, it's not the correct one and was pulled randomly off of some shirt. I told her the price of the shirt and ring it up for her. I thought the shirt was $21. That was the price in the computer, but since she wanted the correct price and demanded I get you the right price, the shirt is $25. Here's your receipt and have a nice day. She snatches the receipt and stomps out, never to be seen again. Then, we have an interesting story from Sox to be you down in the comments.

Many years ago, I went to a JCP furniture outlet. I found a bookcase that looked like it had fallen off a truck and been hit by a car. Really banged up. Next to it was a much nicer bookcase in great condition. The Sucky one had a price tag of $189. The nice one had no tag. At this store, the longer something was on the sales floor, the lower the price would drop.

I asked a salesman about the nice one with no tag. He looked it over and found the tag on the top of the bookcase. It said 94 bucks. I said sold and wrote a check. I came back a couple of days later with a truck and a helper. Another salesman came over and said, so you're the person who bought this one. I asked if there was a problem and he said a lady came in an hour after I bought it and asked why it was Mark's sold. They said, uh, because someone bought

it? She became very irate and asked how they could have done that when she was the one who switched the tags. Moral of the story. If you're going to switch tags, you should probably buy the thing right away. Our next Reddit post is from Ticama Chair. I deliver home-heating oil in a very rural and mostly flat part of the UK. In my delivery area, there are many large drainage channels or digs in the local lingo. The roads are often very narrow and single track, and frequently run alongside these digs separated only by a narrow grass verge.

No safety barrier. Anywho, this one day in the depths of winter, it was below freezing. There'd been a light spattering of snow, and there was a thin scum of ice on the water in the dig. I'd just finished doing a customer delivery and was winding in the hose prior to collecting payment and departing. My truck was completely blocking the road as there was nowhere for me to pull it off the road.

We're limited by the length of the delivery hose. Blocking the road is common and legally acceptable as long as we work quickly and safely. So I was just waiting for the customer to finish writing the check for their oil when this large Mercedes car pulls up behind my truck. And the driver immediately starts leaning on the horn and shouting and swearing and shouting at me to move that effing truck out of the way. Now, my usual response when faced with similar behavior is to blink the swear and pretend they don't exist.

Being 6 foot 3 and 285 pounds helps keep most people at bay. I ignored Mr. Shouting Man and finished up with my customer. The customer said to me, Ignorum, he's well known in the village for being a bit of a dick. I said goodbye and got into my truck. As I was putting away my paperwork prior to driving off, I happened to glance in the driver's side mirror. The same side of the truck as the dike and saw Mr. Shoudi Man storming up the side of

the truck with a tire iron in his hand. Oh sh**, I think, and immediately hit the central locking button locking myself in the cab. Next thing I know, Mr. Shoudi Man has climbed up onto the step on my door, is hanging off the mirror arm with one hand and brandishing the tire iron with the other all while shouting, open this door you you four-eyed grunt! I wear spectacles for driving. Oh, the wit of this man, Lull.

Cume, delicious compliance. He told me to open the door. So I did. But as I did so, I kicked it open. He lost his grip on the mirror arm and was flung backwards into the dike up to his chest in freezing cold, filthy water. I calmly started my engine and drive off. As I left, I looked in the mirror to see this guy floundering around chest deep in icy

water, dressed in a business suit. I called the customer who had witnessed everything and happily, they said that they would give me a statement to whoever needed one confirming I acted in self-defense. Then I made a fairly difficult call to my boss and told him what had happened and he said, I'll await his call with interest. No ballicking, nothing. When I got back to the yard that evening, I asked my boss what had happened and apparently no call of complaint was made that day or ever. Well, OP clearly he didn't make a complaint because he had time to cool off. Our next reddit post is from Robin Hugo. My uncle's neighbors really hate him for literally no reason. And one day he walked into his garden to find three plastic bags. The heavy duty ones you get dog food and cattle feed in, lying on his lawn. And he knew immediately where they were from since he only has one neighbor and the bags

looked as if they'd been lazily thrown over the shared fence. Two of the bags were filled with leaf litter and the other was full of apples that looked like they'd been slightly eaten by worms. Obviously the neighbors didn't want to eat them. My uncle, let's call him flea, does all sorts of gardening in his spare time and he thought that the neighbors threw him their waste stuff for him to use. So he went around to their house and asked if they were the ones who threw him the leaf litter on the apples.

They shut the door in his face without answering, and at this point flea realized they did it maliciously because they couldn't be bothered to take their waste anywhere. Most of you probably know that leaf litter is great for keeping soil healthy, and my uncle realizes this too, and decides to make compost from leaves to use for his onions. He grows large onions for an annual competition, don't ask. After he has a bag full of his homemade leaf litter fertilizer, he waits until one of the neighbors leaves for work. Then goes out into his front garden and makes a big deal of spreading the fertilizer in

front of the neighbor, exaggerating every slight movement and noise. With the apples, however, he decided to make, in combination with his own apple, some sort of beer-slash-wine-slash-sider hybrid, and he also made sure that at least one of the neighbors saw him using their apples throughout the process. The drink was pretty good in the end, if not a bit strong. The icing on the cake for me, though, is when he neatly folded up the plastic bags and left them piled in the neighbor's garden with a rock on top of them, on which he etched

the word more. Your uncles like the gardening version of Mr. Rogers. These people are trying to be mean to him and he's like, well, thank you neighbors, that's real sweet of you to give me all this fertilizer. Feel free to bring some more over and next time we can share a glass of this delicious apple cider. I'm so blessed to have such thoughtful neighbors. That was our Slosh Militius Compliance and if you would maliciously comply then be sure

to hit that subscribe button because I put out new Reddit videos every single day. and if you would maliciously complied then be sure to hit that subscribe button because I put out new Reddit videos every single day.