What is the most satisfying passive-aggressive thing you have ever done to a really mean or rude person?

A few years ago, I was a minority partner in a small business. My other two partners were the majority shareholders. Every few weeks the three of us would hold closed door executive meetings to discuss financial results, customer & employee issues, etc. The meetings were typically very pleasant and encouraging for many years - lots of “how do we address this issue?” “where do we see ourselves in 5 years”, “what’s our next step?” Not coincidentally, the economy was humming along during that same period of time. There wasn’t a lot to complain about because things were going pretty well.

By 2008, the economy was tanking. Residential construction had slowed to a whimper and our customer base followed suit. The tone of our executive meetings started to turn increasingly hostile. Pats on the back and encouragement were replaced with finger-pointing, accusations and blame. Many of the meetings devolved into a game where one partner would try to pit the other against the third. Being the minority and least senior partner, I felt the cannons were often pointed my way.

After months of consistently depressing financials we headed into another dreaded executive meeting. I knew that one partner was upset that one of my new sales program hadn’t delivered results. He called the meeting and took center stage to voice his displeasure in a particularly condescending way. As the other partner and I sat around the conference table, he greeted us in silence with a forced semi-smile while writing notes on his legal pad. His face was red and you could feel the tension in the room immediately. This was going to be a lecture, not a meeting.

Without saying a word, he stands and writes a few figures on the whiteboard. Now he’s slowly walked back and forth around the table scratching his chin and looking toward the ceiling, as if his prepared monologue is actually being delivered impromptu. I’m thinking to myself, get ready for the show. Every 30 seconds or so, he’d pause and without making eye-contact say something like “So… we’ve spent three months working on this and this is what we have to show for it (points at a figure on the whiteboard), Then he’d pace a little more while nodding to himself. Picture the calm-before-the-storm when Alec Baldwin leads into his scathing sale rep beatdown in Glengarry Glen Ross.

This routine continues for 5 minutes (seemed like an hour). The other partner and I are making eye contact but don’t say anything as the crescendo builds. His voice gets louder and face gets redder each time he stops to pose another insulting rhetorical question. “So this is the great new idea you guys came up with?” more pacing, “You think these numbers are impressive, do you?”

Everything was carefully choreographed to maximize our discomfort and let us know he’s about to drop the boom on us. Then I start getting angry. A few years ago, we all sat in this room and worked on problems collaboratively. When we had problems, we could talk to each other directly and sincerely. There was always a mutual respect even when we disagreed. Now I’m being forced to sit through this condescending monologue. Screw this, I decide that I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. After he said his last “This is the best you can do, I guess???” he takes another dramatic pause. I can tell he’s ready to take center stage at the table and rip us a new one.

At that moment I make eye contact with him. While pressing my palms together with anticipation and smiling like a goofy doe-eyed moron, I open my mouth for the first time and say “Don’t keep us in suspense any longer, what do you think of the program?”

The tension was broken as both partners laughed out loud. I think the meeting continued in a much more civil tone after that.

I was a receptionist in a doctor’s office in california in 2002, less than 1 year after 9/11.

A woman calls in to make an appointment for her yearly physical exam, and she wants the soonest available appointment.

Me: (Searches schedule for a bit to find a slot) Well, the first availability I have is with Dr. Tukenmez this Thursday, actually, so we could get you in this week!

Patient: Oh, um, Tukenmez? Do you have any appointments with any other doctors?

Me: Well, the only appointments this week are with Dr. Tukenmez, the other MDs are booked out for about a month (Dr. Tukenmez was new to the practice so she didn’t have a lot of established patients yet, thus her earlier availability)

Patient: Well… I just… I would rather have another doctor. Because, you know, I’m from NYC (code for “I don’t want a doctor with a middle eastern sounding name because I’m afraid they’re all terrorists and I get special privilege to be racist because I’m from NYC, even though I was living in CA when 9/11 happened”).

Me: What a coincidence! Dr. Tukenmez is from NYC too, she was born and raised there. And actually, she’s an American citizen, and her family is Turkish-American; she’s not Iraqi or Afghani or Saudi…

Patient: Well… that doesn’t really matter… so i guess… when is your soonest appointment with another doctor? Because like I said, I’m from NYC.

Me: (at this point super triggered by her racism) Well, we have an opening in 4 weeks with Dr. Goldman. He’s Jewish though. Do you have a problem with Jews too?

Woman: (pause)… um, no, that will be fine.

Me: Ok, he has an appointment on X date at 2 pm.

Woman: (sounding chastened) Ok. I’ll take that one. Thank you.

It felt incredible satisfying to say that. I know it was unprofessional. But i hope she felt ashamed.

It was kind of aggressive-aggressive, but bear with me.

I was camping with some friends of mine. We were a group of six, or so, at a campsite next to a some sort of camp, with a bunch of teenagers being managed by a handful of twentysomethings.

The campers were loud, but not that obtrusive. We ended up all going to sleep around the same time, and all was well. I slept like crap, and was feeling pretty miserable the next morning, when I heard shouting. Lots of shouting. Like, people screaming at the top of their lungs for no reason at all. After a few seconds, it was clear that the counselors were trying to wake up the campers in the most obnoxious way possible, shouting “WAKE UP” and beating on drums.

My camp-mates had all gotten up, and were sitting around a fire drinking coffee, and I stumbled out of the tent, bleary-eyed and disheveled. I stomped furiously past them, and over to the counselors.

“HEY!” I shouted at their leader, who was sitting at a table and managing the screaming counselors. She turned and looked at me, quizzically.

“Am I in your group?”

“Uh…”

“AM I IN YOUR GROUP?” I repeated, quite a bit louder.

“Uh… no?” she said.

“Then why the f**k are you waking *me* up?” mustering my best, most direct stink-eye, then turned and stomped away.

It got real quiet, real quick.