Asshole Things You Do

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I've done a few asshole things, but I think my worst moment was when I hit a disabled girl's face with my umbrella.

Some context: This bitch goes to my campus and is rude, loud, and constantly makes creepy sexual comments towards female students, and if you call her out on her bullshit, she will use her disability as an excuse for her behavior.

I used to own a telescopic umbrella that would extend if you pressed the button at the bottom, but somehow the thing broke and it would randomly extend by itself. This girl was trying to talk to me (despite the fact that I made it perfectly clear I hated her presence and didn't want her anywhere near me), and I jokingly point my umbrella at her when it goes off and slams right between her eyes.

I swear it was a complete accident, but she's left me alone ever since, so I don't feel too guilty about it.
 
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I never put change in tip jars because I always want as much as possible for my Coinstar cup.
 
Pushy lorry (truck, for you Americans) drivers really irk me. Over here, they're limited to 56 mph, and since they've got something ridiculous like a 20-speed gearbox, it takes a certain amount of effort for the driver to maintain any kind of speed below the maximum. As such, if a lorry driver decides he's going to do that "I'm in a lorry, get out of my fucking way" thing, I will block him, and I will do so at a varying speed, between 50 and 53 mph. Just as he moves to overtake, I will increase my speed to ~57mph. I have maintained this for over an hour before now, and I could hear the guy's blood pressure by the time I finally turned off the motorway in question.
 
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I remeber when we were forced to play football in middle school and this one girl kept getting on my nerves. She had been bugging me all year long and I had had just about enough of her shit. I had pretty good aim, so I tried hit her. Unfortunately, it curved and hit my friend who was standing next to her square in the face. Now we both hate that kid.

Also that same year, my english teacher decided to come to school angry at the world. She was yelling at students (and one staff member) left and right until one of them started crying. She was sad because it was getting close to Thanksgiving and her uncle had passed. The teacher took her out of the room to try and calm her down and then tried to explain why she was in such a pissy mood. Her a dog died. I didn't mean to laugh, honest. Its just, she always graded unfairly and was such a bitch. It was karma. She was like a villain from a Ronald Dahl book. Plus, that poor creature never looked happy in any of the pictures she showed us. Its like he was begging someone to take care of him instead. In my defense, I wasn't the only one who laughed.
Stil kinda feel bad tho...
 
I terrorise shopping assistants.

I wear the standard heavy industry uniform of steel caps, blue trousers and a men's orange safety shirt. Not having to worry about makeup and hair every morning is a huge bonus for me, but I do like to look female on weekends. So on those rare occasions where I have a shit awful day at work but still manage to get out on time, I go window shopping. I'll go into clothes shops, look at clothes, take them off the rack, rub the cloth in between my fingers... I never actually try anything on because the last thing I want to do is have to put my dirty uniform back on after I take it off, and besides that, I reek of hydrocarbons and it's not polite to pass it around to strangers. But I make shopping assistants think I'm going to do it.

The trick works best during school holidays, when the businesses attract kids in their mid to late teens desperate for their first job. These assistants usually get a couple hours being lead around the shop by the owner, then they're left with a minder who may or may not actually give a fuck about minding. If it's at all possible, I try to arrange to come in just after the lunch rush, where the head sales person has ducked out for their break. Basically, I walk into a clothes shop, dirty, reeking, uniform and boots on. The assistants slowly get more and more terrified as they try desperately to figure out whether they should come and try to sell me something, or ask me to leave. On the one hand the boss has drilled it into them that they should always try to get a sale; on the other hand, he's also drilled it into them that they need to make sure that the stock stays in good nick. I always make a point of touching the clothes and rubbing the material between my fingers- my hands are permanently stained, so even if my hands are clean they still look dirty- taking the clothes off the rack and holding it in front of mirrors as if deciding to try it on or not.

Needless to say, this trick only works on kids or people who've never worked in retail before. Anyone else with a bit of experience up sees me and knows by my body language that I'm not in the mood try anything on or buy. On rare occasions though, I get a "Hurr, hurr, hurr, look at the uniform, she must be a lesbian," and that's when I start grabbing entire racks of garments and trying on every single fucking one of them. And I'll suddenly develop a terrible virus, and hack and cough and wheeze loudly all over everything.

And then after I get bored, I hand everything back to the assistant and say, "Thanks, I was just browsing," and leave.

Their faces. Classic.
 
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When I was in school, this annoying kid sat next to me in math class who would always try to distract me/other kids, so one day when he was trying to talk to me, I just said out loud, "No, I won't give you the answers". He got moved to right in front of the teacher's desk from then on, and I admittedly feel a little bad to this day about that.
 
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When I'm at work, I terrorise my supervisors. I'm on the second one in my current job. The first one I had, I discovered by accident that surrealism, absurdity and non liner story telling freaks her out. She also loathes repetition in story telling. She's a very, very smart woman, but she likes her fiction to have rigid structures...

...and that's how I ended up with having every single Welcome to Night Vale episode on permanent repeat for six months straight. She'd come into the lab, she'd hear Cecil Baldwin's voice, and she'd do this incredibly subtle cringe. If she were working with me I'd usually turn it off. If she'd pissed me off more than usual, Cecil would end up talking all day. She'd basically come in, check for any obvious damage, and slink off. It was beautiful.

A ways back she ended up being promoted and moved to a different company branch (was it something I said?) and my co-worker became my current boss. My old one drove me insane, but he's driving me to murder. It's got me puzzled how he's survived. In the meantime I discovered that he hates horror stories. That's when I went on a Youtube creepypasta bender and ripped as much freaky shit as I could find. He hates horror stories in general, but SCPs provoke some really strong reactions. I played 'The Flesh that Hates' on repeat for three days straight. Every clink, clank, rattle and thump made him jump and twitch, and one night when we were working back very, very late, I kept having to use the broom to knock him down from the ceiling, so I decided to retire that particular piece. Partially because I felt sorry for him, but mainly because I didn't want him to get used to it. This is the sort of thing you have to be strategic with, if he becomes immune through repeat exposures the game will be effectively ended. He's on holiday right now, so I've been listening to a lot of creepypasta to try and find the perfect one to smash him with when he comes back. So many, many choices...
 
Double post: wherever I go I usually get put on spider catching duty. Huntsman spiders and wolf spiders move very fast and are hairy, and bigger specimens invariably upset whoever I'm supposed to be rescuing. I like spiders in general, and in these situations, if I don't catch and relocate them they're dead. Not much by way of choice on my part. But if I'm pissed off or I don't like whomever I'm rescuing, I'll insist on showing the spider off, tapping the side of the container to make it move, shoving it under the their nose and watch them flinch. I only do this for ten seconds or so before I put the spider outside, being locked in a plastic container and rattled around isn't good for it. But those brief moments of watching the person I just rescued squirm feel good.
 
I'm that person in the group who says they're fine with anything when making plans, but when something is actually suggested I go "Well...I guess..." or turn it down flat.

I also bite my nails, chew pencils/pens, eat paper, gnaw on my fingers, chew my hair if it's long enough and chew gum loudly. Basically, don't get anything near my face unless if you don't mind it going in my mouth. :tomgirl:
 
Whenever I walk my dog, I take her out only very late at night. That way there's not a lot of people out to yell at me if she makes a mess in their yard, and I let her walk without me holding the leash, so she can pee on whatever suits her fancy.
 
If I'm on an elevator and it stops in the middle of my route, I'll press the "Close" button without hesitation, especially when the people who called it are either oblivious retards who don't even notice that it arrived, or families with hyper-ass kids. It's especially fun to do on a cruise ship, where half of the people are rude/lazy porkers who could use a good walk. In other words, karma is being a bitch to them.

God, I'm a terrible man. :story:
 
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If someone directly disrespects me or others I care for, I make sure to reply with deeply personal jabs that tend to cause far more pain if accurate.

For example, this jackass said that no one cared for my opinions or interests among my friend circle. This was around thanksgiving, so of course I reply with jabs about stress over the holiday and familial issues, and being too idiotic to realize that taking it out on some random person trying to have a good time will only make things worse.

I do this only when necessary.
 
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I discretely make fart noises at fat people I see walking around.

My boyfriend and I will point them out if they are around us and make fart noises to the beat of their footsteps.

I also tell Mormon missionaries I'm a Satanist or I tell them to go home and masturbate.
 
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