Sweet Justice, or the come-uppance thread. Tell your tales.

In My Humble Opinion
1

Sorry if I spelled “Come-uppance” wrong.

And sorry if this has been done before, but I just had no clue how to search for such a topic.

It is one of my core beliefs that Fate (or God, if you believe in God) can come up with far more ironic and rich forms of “come-uppance” or “Sweet Justice” (or “Sweet Revenge”) than we ever can. I use this belief to comfort me when someone has been a complete jerk or idiot. “They’ll get theirs”. “They’ll learn”. I believe this, because I’ve seen this, more than once.

I don’t really want this to be some sort of bitter thread (but I suppose that may be inevitable.) I just think it helps us sometimes cope with the crap we endure, to KNOW that the person who dished it out WILL get theirs back. And we needn’t plot revenge, because Fate (or God) will do a far better job than we ever could.

The one story I always think of first that falls into this category is rather small, and trivial, but the whole irony/coincidence factor always makes me remember it:

Years ago, when I was studying piano at a local college. Being a big Classical and Film Music fan, I thought I’d see if I could find some sheet music from some of my favorite movie themes. Now, I have rather odd and obscure tastes, and when I was younger (and hell, even now) I’d get grief for that. So, when I went to the local music store to see about ordering the soundtrack sheet music, I got much resistance from the young woman at the counter. She refused to even see if some of the sheet music I wanted existed. She insisted that none of it was available in sheet music form, even though I showed her the LP records (yes, this was a long time ago) that said that such-and-such a company did the sheet music. Now, I can believe that maybe some of the music wasn’t available, but I couldn’t understand why this woman wouldn’t even LOOK INTO IT, and ask the appropriate company about the sheet music. But she refused to do anything, adamantly, because (I could tell she thought) I had “crackpot” tastes, so there would be no way anyone would publish sheet music to the crap I listen to anyway.

Well, I was really pissed off by her attitude, so I just wrote to the individual companies, and asked them myself. I told them my story. Some of the sheet music companies seemed so sympathetic, they just sent me the sheet music, and trusted me to send them the payment. (I did.) Much of the music I was looking for was available in sheet music form. Well, about a month or two later, I was in some classroom, playing the piano before class started. Naturally, I was playing some film music. People congregated around, asking me what the piece was. (It was John Williams’ theme to “Dracula”, not that you asked.) Just as people were asking me about the unusual music I was playing, yes, you guessed it, that same snotty music store clerk walked in. I guess she was a student at the same college as well, though I’d never seen her before. I was able to tell the people around me (loudly enough for her to hear) that I had to ORDER THIS MUSIC PERSONALLY because the clerk at the MUSIC STORE REFUSED TO DO IT FOR ME. She shot me a cold glare.

Ah, that was satisfying. I’ve never seen that girl since. Just saw her two times. I hope she learned something from that. Even if she didn’t, I did! Fate (or God) has a great sense of humor sometimes!
So, I know this is long-winded, but it’s late and I’m a long-winded mood.

Please - I know the rest of you have some great stories in a simular vein! Please share!

2

Well, this isn’t hand-of-God material, but it is me and my buddies getting back at a guy who did us wrong.

We ran out of weed one night, and our contact was out of town. A friend knew a friend, so we called this guy and he gave us a meeting spot, be there in 30 minutes. When my friends got there, he threw out the weed, they threw out the money. Everything was square, so they went inside to get everyone else, so they could leave. When they got back out, this guy had burned out, taking the cash and the weed with him.

We called him up, and he refused to give us either the money or the weed. At this point, we didn’t care that we’d been taken, we just wanted either the money or the weed. He wouldn’t give it up. His partner in crime, however, was scared and gave us $80 back.

We knew this douche bag’s full name, so we tracked him down via the internet. We got a map to his house from Mapquest, and the next night, six of us piled into our friend’s car, and we were off. At precisely 4:20 am, we lined up alongside this dude’s car, and at the count of three, heaved-ho and threw it upside down onto it’s top. The sound was spectacular. The crunch of the top flattening, the engine ripping from it’s mounts, every window in the vehicle shattering, and an explosion of barking emanating from every dog within five miles.

We got a phone call the next day. “Yo, dawg, I don’t owe you no $130 no more.” “What? Yes you do. Why do you say that.” “Dawg, my padnuh’s car is on it’s roof! I don’t owe you no money no more!” “We don’t know anything about that, what are you talking about?” “Yeah, dawg, I see, I wouldn’t admit it either. You ain’t gettin your money.”

Never heard from him since. I hope it taught them their lesson.

–Tim

3

That’s some goodshit justice, dawg! I’ve been screwed over like that too many times myself :wink:

As for the hand of god, I’m sure I have a story somewhere but I’m currently trying to remember the past few years, it’s a bit hazy. I’ll get back to you if I dig up anything worth a post :smiley:

— G. Raven

4

I agreed to go on a long trip with a guy who, well, put bluntly, he drives me the hell up the wall. Fingernails on a chalkboard. This in an of itself isn’t deserving of come-uppance, but read on . . .

About two hours into the trip, he started holding forth on the topic of moving violations, saying that only stupid people get speeding tickets. All you have to do, see, is watch out for the light bar on the police car. You see the light bar, you slow down, and you never get a speeding ticket. He chortled in glee over all those imbecils, getting speeding tickets, when all you have to do is watch for the light bar. Sure, he admitted, sometimes you see a light bar and it turns out not to be a cop, and he allowed as sometimes ski-racks could look like light bars, causing unnecessary slowing-down, but hey, it beats getting a speeding ticket, like a moron.

I ground my teeth and kept my mouth shut, since we had many hours to go before we reached our destination, and as you might guess, conversation with this guy was rarely rewarding.

Then all of a sudden, he looked at the rearview mirror and said, “Oh, shit.” An unmarked police car had just come up behind us and turned on the light on his dashboard.

Buddy boy got hisself a speeding ticket, right then and there.

Freakin’ poetry.

5

I used to work at this beyond crappy coffee bar that would get NO customers(literally), except for my friends and their friends that came by when I worked. Hell, even if I wasn’t working, they’d came by, just to see if I was there (I gotta be up front with you; there’s really nothing to do in my town besides hang out at a crappy coffee bar), They’d stay for awhile, just kinda hanging out, but they’d always order a coffee and some desserts usually. Then I got fired because my boss was pissed that I kept having friends come in while I worked, but about a month or so after I got fired, the place went out of business. This girl I worked with (whom I saw last night when she told me this) said that without my friends, the place just stopped making money.

6

I saw this one on a news program.
Guy A sued guy B because guy B hit him with his car. Problem was that it never happened, there was a video of the incident and the car came close but it never actually hit guy A. So the insurance company took the whole thing to court, costing everyone heaps of money, and in the end the judge told guy A he was just being a dickhead and that the insurance company should sue him for fraud.
And that’s what the insurance company did, or that’s what they tried to do. But the guy died before they could take him to court. How did he die you might ask. He was hit by a car.
DOH!

7

I’ll never get my come-uppance! Outta my way you horseless carriages! - George Amberson

8

Yosemite Babe - I love that Dracula soundtrack. I own it, in fact. Hell, I think I’ll put it on the turntable right now!!

Sorry, but I have one of those bitter comeuppances.

My daughter’s ex-boyfriend (there’s a restraining order, that’s how ex he is) was verbally as well as physically abusive. He even broke his mom’s collarbone once, and two of his former girlfriends spent time in the ER because of him.

Like most abusers, he was a sweet-talker – could charm the birds from the trees. Then, when he had you believing he’d never hurt you again, some little thing (or nothing) would set him off, and he’d be yelling and name-calling and pretty soon, hitting.

He was recently diagnosed with laryngeal cancer. Radiation hasn’t worked and he’ll be having surgery to remove his larynx. He’s only 38.

I wouldn’t wish this on anyone (seriously, I’m okay now that he’s out of her life and she’s dropped the assault charges), but it’s ironic that one of the tools that he used to degrade and humiliate people all his life won’t be available to him anymore, and might even be the instrument of his eventual destruction.

9

I used to own a really sweet '69 Camaro, candy apple red, 327, Powerglide, the works. I’m at a red light when one of the local bozos pulls-up alongside and blips his throttles at me. Repeatedly. Going deeper into the red each time. Finally he does it, he flips me off just as the light turns grean. I got on the gas quick, not quite breaking traction, but getting up to the posted speed limit real fast, and getting 4 or 5 car lengths on him. Then I got off the gas, and stayed at the speed limit. I knew there was a speed trap just around the bend. Bozo blew past me like I was parked, whipped around the bend and disappeared. About a minute behind him, I turned the bend just in time to see the police cruiser pulling him over, lights flashing. I slowed down just a bit and waved real nice, big grin and all, as I passed the pair of them, cruiser and bozo, parked on the shoulder.

Damn, but that felt good!

10

Thanks everyone, for your stories. Some of these are pretty damned ironic. God (or Fate) sure does have a sense of humor, huh?

I know there are more tales to be shared out there, though…

11

I have one that I just remembered…

Back about three and a half years ago when I was still a “casual” employee at my current job (filling in for someone on maternity leave… she decided to resign later on), I had the “pleasure” of interacting now and then with Beth, a completely bitchy woman who worked for a magazine based at the school (a journalism school).

It was impossible to have a normal conversation with Beth. I don’t know if it was my status as a casual, or her pride in her position with the magazine, or what, but something made her think she was my superior. She was rude, pushy, condescending-- and from what I’d hear around the building, she was this way with others too.

The incident that stands out the most is the time she berated me in front of a bunch of people at an event we were holding, because I allowed the coat-check woman to use her (Beth’s) phone to call home and check on her kids (a local call, that took about 30 seconds, the kind of thing we are routinely encouraged to allow visitors to do rather than referring them to the outdoor payphones). She humiliated me-- she would not, I’m sure, have minded if I’d conducted the president of NBC or something to her phone, but no, it was a lowly coat-checker.

Couple years go by, Beth quits with surprisingly little fanfare… I apply to the school, and I get in. I find out through the office grapevine that Beth had also applied in a previous season-- and was rejected! Despite her magazine work, despite the recommendations she must have had, she was rejected. There was speculation that she quit partly because she was embarrassed about the rejection.

I’m not saying that acceptance into grad school makes me a better person than her. It’s the fact that I can treat people decently that makes me better than her. But you know, it was a charge to know she’d been knocked off her high horse.

I’m never happy to hear that someone has lost a goal important to them. But hey, if you’re going to treat people like shit, be aware that those same people won’t be especially sorry to see you fail.

12

Yes, exactly. Without delving too much into bitterness, I have experienced this too. A schoolmate and friend from way back when liked to “rub it in” that she was thinner and more attractive than me. I have always battled my weight. It hurts especially when your friends have to remind you about how fat you are, so I always was hurt by her comments.

I saw her years later in a store. (We didn’t acknowledge each other, though.) I was reasonably happy with my life, and while not thin, looked OK and had a figure that was “in proportion”. She, on the other hand, had developed this HUGE ASS. She had an average figure otherwise, just a really, really big butt. Now, I’m sorry, it was a long time ago that she was snotty to me, so I shouldn’t gloat. (And I really don’t gloat that much, I just appreciate the irony.) I suspect her childhood was tougher than mine, and she took it out on who she could. But I guess the moral of the story is: don’t make fun of someone else’s appearance, because maybe later on, you may develop a HUGE ASS!

13

I got this same message in a fortune cookie once…

[sub]O.K. Not really. But it made me laugh![/sub]

14

ahhh, yes, karma, I see it all the time.

There was an executive director for a building. Inside this building (run by a non profit company), there were residential rooms, a health club, and the correction center I worked at. (no, the Villiage People weren’t there, but could have been…). He didn’t like the people who lived there, didn’t like that he had to share the elevator with folks whose bathing regime was less than frequent (no, not my residents), and did things like refuse to fix the hole in the ceiling of a room on the 6th floor (large enough for bats to fly into, yes it opened up to the air outside), even though such repairs were covered to the penny. They did things like charge us $1 per roll for toilet paper that literally had wood chips visible, spent a whopping $2 each for pillows after we pointed out that we’d had the same bed trappings for some 15 years, etc etc etc.

He decided that they’d exercise their option to not house us anymore and gave us about 2 months notice. (not nearly enough time to relocate a place like that, so, in effect closed us down).

within one calendar year:

  1. His wife divorced him.
  2. He was fired for cause (rumors were rampant on this issue)
  3. The building itself got flooded when a water main broke on the now empty 5 th floor and continued to pour water down the levels (gee, if people had been living there at the time, they’d have known about it quickly enough to minimize the water damage…)

Another one - a woman tried to give false testimony against a friend in a vehicular hit and run case, during the trial her testimony showed that she was the driver, so the trial stopped and she was arrested. Several years after her prison stint, I saw her obit - she’d been driving a car and didn’t notice the cement truck that had stopped in front of her.
On a positive note, I once found a class ring belonging to a young girl some 100+ miles away from here, went the distance to find her and return it, and a few weeks later, some one did the same sort of thing for me with a little gold medallion that commemorated my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary.

15

I, too, have a “pot calling the kettle black” story.

I was best friends with this girl for 14 years. After being her one and only supporter through her parents’ divorce, her 2 suicide attempts, 2 miscarriages (from men she’ll never see again), a horribly failed long-term relationship, and moving back and forth 500 miles from our hometown, she did the one thing that I could never forgive.
She slept with my boyfriend of 8 years. She went to his house, got him good and drunk/stoned, and proceded to tell him random miscellaneous lies about how much I really didn’t love him, and that she could take care of him.She sat and conned him into it so bad, that he was crying by the time she got his pants off him.
Then she had the balls to tell me she did it. For fun.

I recently saw her walking downtown the other day. She had run into my mom at Christmas, and told my mom that she was 12 weeks pregnant. My mom, (God bless her sarcastic soul) said, “Oh, do you know who the father is?” and walked off, leaving her in tears.

She sent me an email about 3 months ago to ask me to forgive her. I immediately sent back an email (about 4 pages long) telling her that yeah, I should forgive her for all the times she told me I should dump the boyfriend, that sleeping with him was ok, that telling me I was getting a little hefty on a daily basis was ok, that forwarding my mail to a bogus address in New York City was ok, (and that I had checked with local authorities to verify the fines on that one) and that basically making my life a living hell for 2 solid months was ok. I know she has a penchant for the dramatic, and if she decided to go the suicide route again, she would blame me and my letter. So at the end, I wrote, “Oh, but if you really want to be friends with me, yeah, that’s cool, write me back.” I haven’t heard from her since.
Saw her the other day. She’s 5’1", and she’s probably tipping the scales at about 240, 250. Nice to know that Karma is an ass kicker!