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This is a question Sticking it to The Man

From little victories over your bank manager to epic wins over the law - tell us how you've put one over authority. Right on, kids!

Suggestion from Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic

(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 16:01)
Pages: Popular, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Free Parking!
I like to park in parking garages, for some reason I think they are safer. I'll leave my car there for nigh well the whole day, knowing I owe the nice people who run the garages many monies i cannot afford( as I have probably spent my last on a pack of smokes) I will walk in where the cars enter, push the button to gain entry, give the new ticket to the attendant. As I have obviously only been parked in the garage for less than ten minutes, I do not have to pay. Victory, it is mine.
(, Fri 18 Jun 2010, 6:04, 11 replies)
Stories from china, I've loads but this one is the best and anyway not apocryphal like that one about the taiwanese driving licenses everyone tells
I was once dragged in front of local officials in Beijing to "explain my wrongdoing" as my chinese client put it (long story)

anyway, I turn up with a translator, my client and a pocket full of cash. Not that my chinese was bad but not really fluent and anyway one must (and is expected to) keep up appearances.

The bollocking ensues .... only it doesn't

The fat official turns to my client and goes off on one about how "who's this foreigner?" (actually he wasn't that polite) and "I can't talk to the likes of him, he'll just call a lawyer" (again ... well you get the picture). I didn't need a translator to understand what the guy was getting at and was just struggling to keep a straight face during each exchange until the translator had finished her bit so I could reasonably respond. It was quite clear that this guy wanted a chinese guy in front of him on his knees ... because a chinese guy would understand the poilitical situation and understand his place, something that I, as a LaoWai (old outsider), a double edged description that the chinese claim uncovincingly to be a compliment, at least they didn't call me DaBiZe (big nose) ... or worse.

So, after sitting through this for 20 minutes or so, I realise that;

1. I (and my firm) have done nothing really wrong, this guy's just after a free lunch and the satisfaction of seeing someone one their knees in front of him
2. he's not satisfied with bollocking me or confident what the outcome would be and,
3. The client's rep that has been sent with me is quite junior, I have a (chinese) patsy in the room.

I say to my translator "I am sorry for your distress but I feel that this situation has nothing to do with me or my company and I should leave now"

The fat Official doesn't wait for the translation, he turns and looks me in the eye and says "that is right, you may leave" in quite good english

I dined out on the bribe money I had in my pocket that evening. Turns out the Project manager was really pissed at this guy as he'd been lining his pockets for months to keep him sweet.
(, Fri 18 Jun 2010, 4:50, 1 reply)
There was that time I fought the law.
But now that I think about it, the law won.
(, Fri 18 Jun 2010, 4:44, 3 replies)
It's my birthday
And I have to work. So I took my tie off 15 minutes before the end of my shift. Take that the man!
(, Fri 18 Jun 2010, 3:17, Reply)
Fucking Safestyle UK!
For months, these bastards kept ringing me, offering me free estimates etc, after a bajillion no's, I hit upon a brainwave... Say yes! Appointment made, unfortunately for them, at a time when I'm in work. Phone call the next day, my grovelling apologies, another appointment made. Not home. 3 months I did this for, 3 fucking months, & the stupid bastards just kept coming back again & again!

It eventually stopped when I got bored & explained to the lad on the phone that for the last 3 months, I'd been wasting their time, man power & money by making them come to my house & not being in (or sometimes just ignoring them) on purpose. His response? "You could have just said no". I did mate, a bajillion times, you didn't listen, so I did this!

No contact for 2 years now! Like a dream
(, Fri 18 Jun 2010, 2:10, 1 reply)
A while ago
I attached computers, printers and network switches onto the backs of a British band founded in 1962 and responsible for a string of hits throughout the 60's including the soundtrack to the popular film 'Up The Junction'.

So in summary then: I stuck I.T. to the Manfred Mann.
(, Fri 18 Jun 2010, 1:05, 1 reply)
I used to have a friend named Jeremy, who was crazy.
We called him Crazy Jeremy. One day, Jeremy and I walked from my house to the nearest convenience store, which was about 2 miles away. He got a Coke out of the cooler, a bag of doritos, several magazines, a bag of gummy bears, and walked up to the counter where he asked for a pack of cigs. Jeremy then pulled out his checkbook and started writing out a check. Remember the scene in Pee-Wee's Big Adventure where he gets in the truck with Large Marge? The cashier bore a striking resemblance to Large Marge, only 20 years younger. She looked Jeremy up, then down, then up again, and informed him in mostly sign language and grunts that checks were not acceptable. Jeremy protested, but she would not budge on the subject. He asked if he could leave his items at the counter while he went to the bank to make a withdrawal, and was given a curt no in response. Seeing that the cashier was being particularly unreasonable, and hoping to diffuse any situation that was about to erupt, I offered to stay behind while he walked across the street to the bank.

He returned 5 minutes later and without a single word to anyone, went straight into the bathroom. After a few minutes, he came back out with something wrapped up in a paper towel, and headed for the counter. Sensing he was now ready to pay for his purchases, which I was still guarding, I met him at the counter just in time to see him dump the contents of his paper towel on the counter: ten individually balled-up $1 bills. The cashier gave Jeremy an annoyed look, which quickly disappeared when she picked up the first bill and uncrumpled it to reveal a distinct brown streak. The cashier, now shocked and appalled enough to have forgotten whatever originally put her in a bad mood, squealed like the proverbial little girl and dropped the bill onto the counter. "I CAN'T ACCEPT THAT!", she yelled in a voice seemingly too high-pitched to be her own. Jeremy simply smiled and replied calmly, "See the small print there, where it says 'This note is legal tender for all debts, public and private'? That means that by law, you HAVE to accept it. And you can keep the change." We both turned and walked out, trying hard to disguise our giggles. He later admitted to me that, while not every note had been painted in brown, every one had taken a joy ride across his brown starfish, and that the first two or three were fairly well soaked with sweat. He'd first thought about just doing one and handing them to her in a stack, but then decided to do each individually and crumple them up to maximize the amount of handling required by the cashier.
(, Fri 18 Jun 2010, 0:41, 17 replies)
Import Tax
While at work serving alcoholics i apparently took in a fake twenty quid note, my boss told me about it, took the twenty quid from my next pay and gave me the fake note.
Next day i had to pay twenty odd quid to the post office (import tax for a Stormtrooper rifle kit i ordered online) so i gave them the fake note.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 23:39, 4 replies)
parking enforcement ticket man!
i was shopping in Buxton and i noticed i was a couple of minutes over my allotted time and as i walked toward my car the traffic warden Nazi bastard was writing a ticket for me and my car Mohammed and i stepped up and chose to simply nonchalantly stroll past him, got in my car and drove with a firm V that Harvey Smith would have been proud of! i felt awesome as he looked on despondently!
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 23:29, 16 replies)
Sticking it to The Man?
Buggered my boss once. Is that what you mean?
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 23:11, 2 replies)
Everyone gave their passport to HR to photocopy at work, some new law they say...
well I looked up this 'law', turns out I didn't have to. Not if you've been there for years.

I told them no, after a year of stress they finally gave in because I was right all along.

(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 23:11, 10 replies)
If only you could really Trade them...
I work in the power industry, and it's amazing how eager a lot of trade magazines are to get you on their mailing list. I must receive about 10 different ones a month, but I never read them as they are mostly ads.

However, each one calls a couple of times a year to "verify my information so they can continue to send me their fantastic magazine". Since they never ask if I actually *want* to receive it, I just agree that yes, all the information is correct, and let them continue to send me magazines that I instantly toss in the bin, happy that they spent the postage and such wasting money on me.

Inevitably, they started asking if I would prefer to receive their lovely publication through email instead of in print, and I always tell them "no", just to stick it to them.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 23:05, 2 replies)
Pearoast from the captain
As I am a salesman (what's the difference between a salesman and a rep I hear you ask? About £20k/yr) I use the road system a LOT. One day a few years ago I was stopped on the slip from the M69 on to the M1 by the police. There were about 8-10 cars all stopped with 3 police cars at the front. I noticed while waiting that all of the cars were newish mondeo/vectra/passat types with single occupants all in suits. Sales types.
So! When the noddy PC arrived at my car I wound down the window. He stuck his head in and asked, very politely "Good morning sir, sorry for the inconvenience but, can I ask where you're going?" To which I replied, equally politely "no officer".
He appeared taken aback somewhat and said "pardon?".
The conversation went like this from then on
"No I won't tell you where I'm going"
"Sir I must ask you again, where are you going?"
"I'm not going to tell you"
After several rounds like this the Johnny-no-stars PC (I still have his collar number) went to get reinforcements.
Over waddled a Sergeant. Sergeant says "Sir, we require to know where you're going"
I replied "Unless you tell me why, I'm not going to tell you".
By this time quite a queue had formed behind me and something of an audience was earwigging.
Sergeant spoke on his taking brooch for a little while. A higher-ranking policeman turned up, somewhat younger than both coppers (and myself!)
"Be reasonable sir, we only want to know where you're going" said the young officer "and, if you'd take my advice and answer you'll get to your destination a lot quicker".
I calculated that enough of a crowd had formed by this time and, as I was out of the car by now, it was time to let them have it.
"RIGHT! You may ask my name and address. You may ask to see the documents for the car. You may ask to see my driving licence. However, as a freeborn Englishman on the Queen's highway going about my lawful business YOU MAY NOT ASK WHERE I'M GOING".
They appeared a tad crestfallen by this time. To add insult to injury I then said "Now are you going to tell me why I and all of these motorists have been stopped? Or am I going to call your Chief Constable?"
The three were standing like naughty schoolboys at this point.
One piped up (to glares from the others) "We're checking that you've budgeted enough time for your journey"
I replied very icily and loudly enough so that the other drivers could hear
"You mean to say that I and these other drivers are being held on suspicion of "driving with intent to speed"!?" "As far as I am aware there is no such offence officers and, unless you are going to arrest me, get out of my way". After scrutinising my documents and the car (4 days old)and finding nothing untoward they obviously decided that discretion was the better part of valour and were about to wave me on (I had all their collar numbers by now) As they trudged defeated to their cars, I wound down the window and as a final remark I said to the young ranking officer "by the way, as to taking your advice? I own shoes older than you!".
I could see him in the rear view mirror, shoulders slumped, with his two cronies giggling behind him as I drove away.
Cheered me up no end!
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 22:57, 22 replies)
Take that, corporate America
I once bought a can of Coke from a vending machine, but cleverly used a New Zealand 20c coin in place of an Australian one, thus screwing the mighty Coca-Cola corporation out of 2.3722 cents.

(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 22:53, 1 reply)
I robbed a bank once
One of the pens had a broken chain. I took it.

Take that HSBC, you useless cunts.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 22:52, 6 replies)
...ave it
i genuinely once got fired and marched out by my boss whilst he was wearing a sign on his back that I had stuck there saying ''I AM A TWAT"

One of my biggest regrets in life was not being around when he realised.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 22:14, Reply)
Once I stole from work
I was using a company pen to do a crossword during my lunch break and put it in my bag without thinking.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 21:55, Reply)
Black Marker Pen
My step dad has always been a bit of an energy saving nazi. If we left anything on when we left a room he'd flip his lid and go nuts throwing a fit like a little child.

So one day I took a permanent black marker and coloured in all my standby lights. TAKE THAT ELECTRICITY NAZI!
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 21:21, Reply)

Sometimes I leave my DVD player on pause when I go out just to remind the cunt I'm in charge.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 20:37, 1 reply)
I quit smoking when I reached my 21st birthday
and part of the 'deal' I made with myself was that every year, I'm allowed to smoke on National No-Smoking day.

And I bloody do.

Ha! Nobody tells me what to do. That's showing the bastards!

I'm just hoping they never create a national anti-incest day or summit.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 20:36, 7 replies)
The Nonorable Gentleman
I was employed last year for a very short while by a very wealthy and influential man who had much more in common with a spoilt 8 yr old than one might hope. It was supposed to be a full time contract, and we'd discussed 2 and 5 year plans and how the project would develop and us with it... dreal job, and a long time coming.

After a fortnight he decided that it wasn't going to work between us despite the fact that I'd pulled it all together not only on time but slightly ahead and well under budget (about 3 months work in just under 2 weeks, working 16 hrs a day for 13 days to get it done)...

I was not happy, especially when I was handed a cheque for 2 weeks work. I argued that I'd been contracted for my skills, qualifications and experience, and as such I was entitled to a minimum of a month. He gave in after a couple of days and I got my money.

What I forgot to tell him was that an hour before he'd sacked me the local council had called and booked a planning and environmental health meeting with me. They had some concerns that I had prepared answers and remediation for. They arrived at 11am the day after I got my cheque and cashed it. Apparently it was a bit of a shock.

(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 20:31, 1 reply)
Once when i was school the head master told me off for being too noisy which i thought was rather unfair.

He then gave me a fifthteen minute lecture about acting my age.

I took this lesson on board and as soon as he turned his back i proceeded to blow raspberrys and flick the v's in his generally direction,
only to be caught by another teacher walking the other direction towards me.

Ahh to be a caretaker again.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 20:05, Reply)
Too lazy to cook
I went to the offy and got some cans of Natch in and then I went to the takeout for some food.

My hands were quite full, but I could just about manage to carry everything. So there I am with my cider and food but the geezer in the India takeaway was insistent I took the receipt for my dinner.

I got him to fix it to my oven baked flat bread.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 20:03, 2 replies)
The Coke machine stole my 50p.
So I put a sign on it, saying, simply: "OUT OF ORDER -The Management".

The sign was there for nearly a week.

I got my 50p's worth.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 19:55, 2 replies)
I don't have a television license.
I also don't have a television. Instead I have the radio, and books, and the Internet, and actual real-life friends to occupy my time. If I had a television it would probably still be in its increasingly dusty shipping carton, doing duty as a coffee table or similar.

I've stopped bothering to reply to the stream of threatening letters telling me that the TV Licensing records need "updating" and warning me that I could be committing a crime and could face vast penalties for my troubles. It seems that if I repeatedly take the trouble to fill in the bit at the bottom which says "I don't have a television" I can get them off my back for a month or two before they start hounding me again, or so prior experience suggests. Well, their records don't need updating. Their records show that I don't have a license because I don't have a television, therefore their records are correct. If I finally do take complete leave of my senses and get a television I'll let them know. Until that happens they can leave me alone.

I'm fed up with their continual pestering of me - and their almost-accusations which cleverly skirt the borders of libel without quite crossing over - as well as their ignoring my previous reminders that I don't have a television, so now I just ignore them in turn. Every so often I arrive home and see a standard template letter telling me that some officious little rat-faced twerp has knocked on my door while I was out working at a proper job and that I could be breaking the law and liable for fines, etc. etc. etc.

If they want to waste my time, I'll let them waste theirs.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 19:51, 40 replies)
Clamp it to the man
A few years back I was delivering tons of stuff to my University department (in Lincoln) to help set up my final show. I came downstairs after delivering the final load to find that my sh*tty old Ford Fiesta had been clamped by some vicious fascist clamp bastard. Considering how little the car was worth, and considering how skint I was, there was no way in hell I was going to pay the 80 quid fine. Little did he know that because my car was so sh*t, I carried a nearly complete tool set in the boot. Half an hour later my suspension was disassembled and I had removed the wheel, suspension strut and lower wishbone (car gubbins to those who don't know) and the clamp was safely removed. Another half an hour later and I had reassembled the car and was on my way. One week later I get a letter through the door from Mr clamp bastard asking where their clamp was, so I phoned them up and explained that...
"Someone illegally altered and modified my vehicle without my prior consent, this illegal addition to my vehicle was removed and was safely disposed of by flinging it into the River Witham."
They never did get back to me. :D
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 19:32, 10 replies)
My friend is dyslexic.
Last year, one of the senior tutors in our department refused to put lecture notes on the website beforehand in case people "cheated". Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but as his teaching style was rather vague my friend asked him if he could make a concession- she was paying for lectures she couldn't follow. Could he email her the notes or a lesson plan?

"Oh no, I don't have time for that," he said, and walked off.

Later on in the seminar, when we were discussing the module (i.e talking about the last episode of Tudors) he came around the class... not to answer questions, but to do a register. Because anyone who wasn't attending was going to be disciplined. He asked us both our names.

"Are you sure you have time to do that?" We asked.

He blinked at us, thought for a minute, and just walked off. It was another week before he asked us our names again.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 19:26, 6 replies)
Sex, lies and Bailiffs.
A few years back I went shopping in Asda in Farnborough (The other half insisted we go visit this shit hole!). They operate a Pay and Display carpark and having no change to buy a ticket, and being of the mindset that "im bringing my money to the shit town i should not have to pay", i come out to a paking ticket on my windscreen.

To compound the error in judgment, i decided to ignore the ticket as i have done many times in the past (With a high degree of success i might add). So a few weeks later i get a letter from Rushmoor Borough Council telling me i have to pay a hundred odd quid as the offense had been logged with the court in Nottingham etc etc. I do the right thing and bin it.

More months go by until one morning i just pull into the car park at work when my wife phones me to tell me that a bailiff has just knocked at 7am looking for me and that i had to pay them 300 quid for parking fines and costs. I know a bit about the law see, and i know that a bailiff is not allowed to discuss my debt with anyone else, no matter who they are, but this bloke never even bothered to establish who he was talking to. First mistake.

After an earbashing from the wife that evening about losing all our possesions and the house etc, i decide to finally pay up the hundred quid to Rushmoor Council via online payment. I print a copy of the details to wave under the bailiffs nose if he came back.

Which he did. Many times. I wrote a letter to the council asking them to call off the bailiffs as i had already paid and they told me "tough shit, we accept your hundred quid but the bailiifs want their cut so they can keep coming till they get it." The bailiff kept comiing every other week and as my other half refused to open the door or was out at work they kept putting paperwork through the door each time adding more money too it and badly scrawled threats of "we are coming next time to take your goods". I was not bothered as i knew there was nothing they could do, however to placate my wife i decided to sort it. I wrote to the bailiff company and asked nicely if they would drop the matter as it had been sorted. I was sent a condecending letter from a witch of a woman who basically said "Fuck you, you pay".

After a few back and forth exchanges between myself and the bailiff office i looked up some bailiff law and discovered that they had made a grave error in calculating their costs as they had added costs for attending to remove, hire of a vehicle and added a charge for each attendance (which i cunningly got them to itemise in a letter). When i pointed out that they had not made any walking posession agreement so that attending to remove was bullshit, therefore so was the hire of a van and that the law states that they are allowed to charge attendance fees for the first three visits only (which they forgot to do!), oh and pointed out that they never even sent me a letter advising me of intention to attend (Ironically the only thing that they could charge for and didn't), they sent me a letter telling me that they had passed the matter back to the council and no further action was going to be taken! I think that threatening to get the court to check their costs might have been a deciding factor in it as if they were found to be charging too much they they could have the bailiff license suspended or even withdrawn.

The bailiff company in question? Some of you might know then already, Drakes Bailiffs. Yes those twats on the TV show of the same name (Bailiffs, not twats!).

So basically it cost me a hundred quid to park in Asda in Farnborough, but i had the satisfaction of really beating the bailiff! (They were in that too i believe).

So where is all the sex in this as implied by the title? Well, my wife was pregnant at the time, which makes them cunts for trying to threaten money out of a pregnant woman, and i suppose makes me a bad father/dad for letting it get that far. And lets not forget Rushmoor borough Council for allowing their chosen debt collectors break the law, which in legal terms makes them just as liable.

I learned my lesson now though. I dont got to Farnborough or Asda and my life has been so much better ever since. But one day, Rushmoor Borough Council is going to find itself paying out to clean up some kind of dirty protest to the tune of about a hundred quid....
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 19:19, 6 replies)
Tesco Hot Food Counter
3 Chicken Breasts for £1 + Mildly flirting to the gentle (if slightly simple) older lady behind the counter = 5 chicken breasts for £1.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 19:09, 1 reply)

This question is now closed.

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