rSlash - r/Maliciouscompliance Won't Pay Me? I'll Sue You For $84,000!

Episode Date: January 30, 2023

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Welcome to our slash malicious compliance where a Karen says, okay, they get a lawyer and ends up losing $84,000. Our next reddit post is from Joseph Nightwolf. I got injured at work. The ambulance, hospital, doctors, inpatient therapy, and outpatient therapy were excellent. First class, my insurance did not cut corners. During my hospitalization, the doctors found some small nerve damage.

I was told that it could last for years, or fix itself. The immediate solution recommended by my doctors was a pill used for the treatment of mild Parkinson's, only one a day if needed. The pill worked well. During my eight months of therapy, I used about 15-20 pills a month. I completed my physical therapy thanks to my great therapists and I returned to work. The pills were prescribed to me in a frequency greater than my use, but the pharmacy would call on schedule to pick up more. At

one point, I realized they hadn't called to pick up more, so I called them. They told me my prescription had expired. I had plenty of unused pills, so I wasn't in a rush for more. I contacted the insurance company, and they told me the case was closed. I argued that my nerve damage was part of the original diagnosis, and it might continue for years. Case closed was the response. I offered to pay for the pills myself, but I need a prescription from the doctor to get more. I was told that all I could do was reopen the claim. Okay, how do I do that?" I asked. Calla lawyer, she said. I had been treated very well by the insurance company up to this point

without litigation, but okay, my lawsuit against them cost them $84,000 plus their legal fees. Those pills were $34 since each. $81 bucks a year. All I wanted was the pills! So to all of you insurance companies out there, don't be in such a rush to end workman's comp claims. I just wanted the pills. Our next Reddit post is from X Grunt. I worked at a small shop serving an electrical apprenticeship.

Me and the shop manager had a few run-ins, and I assumed that he disliked me as much as I disliked him. I had refused to do a job, and I told him that he didn't pay me enough. I was at the stockyards, and I was expected to put on a set of waiters, crawl down into a raw, fat reclamation tank, and replace a submersible pump. That was not going to happen. Another time, he wanted me to lie to a customer to make an issue they were having sound like it was in our fault. I refused and told him that if he wants to lie about it, he was going to have to drive out to the job site and do it himself. He told me to keep my mouth shut and he did come out. I think the only reason that he didn't fire me was that I was by far one of the most efficient and versatile employees.

This fact had me questioning how much I was getting out of this apprenticeship and I was passively looking around for another shop to apprentice at. My wage scale was structured and I got regular raises bringing me closer to journeyman's level over my time as an apprentice. So, I had to find someone that would sign up to complete my apprenticeship as well as want to hire me. One of our better Journeyman had gone to another shop and had introduced me to the owners. We had talked about what it would take to get me to move. Things were progressing, but nothing had been committed to at that point.

Queue the malicious compliance. It's my evaluation and raise time. My manager calls me up to the conference room and explains that due to my performance and the shop being in a slow period, he was not going to give me the 25 cents an hour raise as my contract said. But he was going to give me a $1 an hour raise once I became a journeyman. We argued and I told him that if I can't trust you for a quarter, why would I trust you for a dollar?

The argument ended in him telling me that if you don't like it, you can always quit. Oh really? I picked up the conference room phone on the table in front of us and called the rival shop that I'd been talking with. I asked the owner, if I brought my tools over today, could I have the job? After a quick and uncomfortable discussion with his partner, he said yes. I told my manager that I was quitting effective now.

I loaded my tools up, punched out, and went straight to work that afternoon. Man, OP, dropping gyms of wisdom here. If I can't trust you for a quarter, why would I trust you for a dollar? That feels like the type of sentence that should be, you know, like a euphemism. Like a famous quote that people say to get the point across in some profound way. Like, infra-pini-infra- pound, or he who waits is lost. Also, OP, what an awesome way to quit, man. Calling up

a rival company and getting the job in front of your bad boss's face, uh, your boss must have been fuming. Our next reddit post is from Brooklyn as queer. Here's a story about my dickhead supervisor, Kathy. So I work at a Canadian coffee chain called Tim Hortons. Basically, Canadian Duncan Donuts. I was about halfway through my shift the other day when Kathy comes up to me while I was busy and says, You're staying late because you owe me a favor and walked away. Someone had called in sick and she wanted me to cover part of their shift. Now if I stayed late, I'd be working 12 hours and I'm on my third day working out of five

and had to be up early the next day for another shift. Not to mention, I didn't even owe Kathy anything. The favor she's referring to is when she sent me home early because we weren't busy, which she had to do or she would get in trouble. Now, in Canada, an employer can't force you to stay later like that, so I walked up to Kathy when I had a free moment and said, if you want me to stay later, you can ask me properly. I don't disrespect you, so I expect to be given respect and return. Kathy gets snippy. Oh calm down, I was just joking with you.

I was about to fight back, but a light bulb went off in my head. I walked away and continued my work. When the people in the next shift started showing up, I ran my plan past them and they gave me the go-ahead. Cue malicious compliance. Instead of staying later, I went home at my normal time. I didn't stay later because I hadn't agreed to anything. Nearly the second I sat down at home, I got a call from none other than Kathy.

Hello? Where are you? I said you were staying late today. You said you were joking. Yeah, joking with how I asked, but I figured you needed hours and you weren't gonna say no, so I assumed you'd stay. I can't. I'm busy.

This is why you should have asked properly. Click? Kathy had to cover my shift. The worst part is I probably would have considered covering that shit if she had just asked me nicely, but I'm a petty b-word. Our next Reddit post is from Pressure Crocker. I used to work at a diner on the weekends. To go coffees are served in styrofoam cups and only come in one size, 12 ounces.

A trucker came in for breakfast and he asked for a big coffee to go. Again, they only come in one size, so I sold him a 12 ounce coffee and gave him his cup. Usually, we leave space in the cup in case people want to add cream, but I filled his up all the way. Then, my manager pulls me aside in front of him and reprimands me for not giving him a big coffee like he asked for. All the while, the customer is nodding and smiling. When I asked my manager what she would like me to do because we only have coffee cups in one size.

She tells me that I should have known that I was supposed to use a Styrofoam soft drink cup instead. Those cups are 30 ounces. In my entire time working there, we have never done that. There's also no option on the register to charge someone for a 30 ounce coffee. But the customer was upset, so my manager made up a non-existent rule on the spot and belittled me to make him happy. She threw me under the bus. You'd be surprised how many customers ask for big, large, jumbo, huge, enough to fill a tin

gallon, coffees every day. It's usually a joke, followed by some comment about them being tired. They aren't really asking about coffee cup size. They're just trying to make conversation and use silly words. So for the next several months, I proceeded to give every single person who made a comment about coffee size a 30 ounce coffee and charged them for a 12 ounce coffee. That coffee maker was constantly going. I mean constantly. We were going through bags of coffee like crazy.

Almost as if we were selling nearly three times as much coffee without making more profit from it. Down in the comments, me walking in with a 10 gallon fish tank. Can you top me off? And O.P replies, how many creams would you like? Now I'm imagining like a bunch of fish swimming around into fish tank full of coffee. Those fish would be absolutely wired. with thrive small business software and never miss a message again. Thrive offers one solution to communicate, market, and run your business, but simply small businesses run better on Thrive. Get Command Center for free today at thrive.ca.

That's THR-YV.ca. Terms and conditions apply. Free plans have limited functionality. Our next reddit post is from Pickles McWaffle. I work for a small moving company in my city. We move furniture and decor to many different places throughout the city. We got a call about moving a large load of bookshelves to a rather large industrial building. We loaded up to 18-foot box trucks full of shelves and were ready to move. When we arrived at the building, we pulled

around to the loading dock and began offloading the shelves. As we were bringing stuff off the truck, I went to building security to open the door. There had been a recent string of shootings in our area, and everyone was locking all the doors. The people there handed me a door stop and told me I could prop the door open since we had a large load. So I prop the door open and we got going. Before we even had the first pallet off the truck, the building's maintenance manager came running towards us. He screamed at us, what are you doing? You can't have that door propped open. Now, this guy looked like he was somewhere

between the ages of 76 and 105. He was as red-faced as I've ever seen anyone. I calmly told him that security gave me a door stop and told me that since we have such a large load, we could keep the door propped open. Of course, he wasn't having it. I don't care what security told you, you can not have this door propped open. At this point, my native American temper got the better of me. I replied, yes, sir.

I walked over to the door and picked up the door stop. I walked back to security and explained the situation. They rolled their eyes and explained that this crotchety old fossil was always causing problems all over the building. They told me that I could still prop open the door, but now I was mad in feeling petty. He doesn't want us to prop the door open? Alrighty then. There was a buzzer outside of the door, so I buzzed security asking them if they could open the door. Well, guess who's office was right by that door, and thus, guess who security called to open that door and let us in? That's right. The fossil man who was two days older than dirt. He opened

the door and let us in. We made our delivery and came back to grab another pallet. I, again, buzzed security and they, again, asked Fossilman to let us in. This happened twice more before Fossilman stopped me and said, You know, if you wanted to keep that door open, you can since you have such a big load. I replied with the biggest smile on my face. Oh no sir, that door can't be propped open. I wouldn't want to upset anyone by doing that. He looked at me with a look on his face that was somewhere between murderous and the realization

that he had made a huge mistake. 18 palates later, we had the load delivered. And every single time, guess you had to let us in. It took us a little over two hours to get everything finished. After we delivered the last palette, I poked my head into Fossilman's office and said, thank you so much for your help. I'm pretty sure that he popped a blood vessel. I think what's so great about this story, OP, is that I imagine the security people who also hated Fossilman were probably laughing their butts off, buzzing the guy in every single time. Bzzz, oh Steve, do you mind opening the door?

Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, Steve, sweetie, would you be a deer and open the door for them? Our next reddit post is from Palutus Volpes. We've been living in our apartment for three years. It's old and cozy. The building is 20 years old, and though the appliances, wall paint and carpets have been replaced, the floor has not. It's painfully thin.

Every step we take creeks and groans, and it's annoying! Living on the third floor, we know that it's got to be even more so for whoever lives below us. So, we've done our best to be mindful of their comfort and try not to make too much noise. We had a new downstairs neighbor move in a couple of months ago and she is not convinced that we are literally tiptoeing around our apartment. Every time I get home and close my door, she's banging on my floor with a broom or something. Every time I cross the living room, banging. Every time I vacuum, banging. Every time my dog chews on a bone, she bangs on the dang floor and

it scares my poor dog. We've been living on egg shells trying to be courteous, but she's driving us mad with her insistent banging every time we take a step. I guess you finally had enough because she came upstairs to yell at us the other day. You are too loud. You need to be courteous and walk normal. You have neighbors! She yells. She almost looked like she was going to cry. It was disturbing. We felt bad. My husband tried to explain that, ma'am, we do our best to be quiet, but these floors are really old and they creak. We're not stomping or jumping or running, we're living, but we'll continue to be considerate. She was not impressed

with his answer and continued to argue. Well, I lived on a first floor before and my other neighbors weren't loud like you. It's so loud and my job is so stressful, so I want you to stop stomping. I don't want to be a mean person, but I really think that you're too loud. So you know what we agreed to? To walk like normal people. Okay, okay. We'll walk normally, we said.

So this is exactly what we've been doing. Nothing different. So she still bangs on the floor and gives us nasty looks. But we're being normal people who walk normal and don't stop around. Our dog is a normal dog who chews on bones and walks from his bed to his food bowl and gets excited when it's time for walkies. We are so normal. We'll be moving next month so it's no skin off my back.

I hope the next tenant doesn't have kids. Or maybe I do hope it. And then maybe she'll finally understand that we were normal people who walked normally. Maybe she'll even miss us. Our next Reddit post is from Lala Lake. I was reading through this sub and I was immediately brought back to my senior year of high school. I went to a Catholic school and we took a religion course every year.

In my senior year, it was social justice. Our teacher, Miss Prick, was the absolute worst. She was brand new, extremely homophobic, and basically hated anyone who wasn't extremely Catholic. Every morning, we had the morning prayer, pledge of allegiance, and announcements before the official start of class. Mrs. Prick would purposely close the classroom doors and lock them, so anyone who came in after prayer started would have to stay in the hallway until morning announcements were over. On this particular morning, my friend Bobby was speaking to

a teacher before first period. Prayer began, and one of our classmates snuck over to the door and let Bobby in. We thought all was well until announcements ended and Mrs. Prick starts screaming at us to tell her who was late. None of us say a peep because niches get stitches and end up in ditches. Mrs. Prick gets angrier and says, if you don't tell me who walked in during prayer, you will all go get late slips from the principal.

Our entire class of about 20 kids looked at each other and decided to comply. We all walked downstairs and into the lobby of our school where the principal and vice principal offices were. Our vice principal took one look at us and said, what the hell are you all doing here? We told him Miss Prick sent us all here to get late slips because we let Bobby in during prayer. Miss Prick considers that late and none of us wanted to snitch.

Plus, Bobby was on time to school, and he would have been the classroom had Miss Prick not locked the doors before the bell. The vice principal paused, looked at us for a bit, chuckled, and said, get back to class. Needless to say, that was Miss Prick's first and last year teaching there. Okay, so I think what happened here is the vice principal was like, there is no way in

hell I'm doing all this paperwork. 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.