16 People Describe the Memory That Makes Them Salty to This Day

Most of us are pretty practiced at letting the little stuff go. It’s inconsequential, or it was a long time ago, or we’ve just realized it isn’t important enough to hold onto.

That said, there are some moments in our lives that leave such a deep mark that we can’t help but continue to be a bit salty about them, no matter how much time has passed.

These 16 people have some stories that are making my unrelated blood boil!

16. This is such a valid reason to still be mad.

When I was about 7 or so my mother met my sister’s father and got married to him.

Now growing up, I grew up VERY poor. I would help out my mother and my father when he was around with jobs, things like Landscaping work and such to earn money to buy my own school supplies, toys, etcetera. (My sister’s dad had a lot of money, so we didn’t struggle for once the year or so they were married)

When I was little I was very much into Pokemon. I had tons of cards, books, figures, games you name it (I even had the yellow version game for gameboy color…but in japanese; it was an exclusive release from Japan. Not to mention every ultra rare card you can think of). A lot of it was stuff I had bought myself or was a very, VERY rare gift given by “family”.

My sister’s dad ended up being extremely religious, and deciding that PIKACHU IS THE DEVIL!!!!!, and threw away every single bit of Pokemon stuff one day while I was at school. Everything. Even my f*ckin’ pokemon washcloth.

Now the real kicker of the story: of course, he and my mother got divorced and he retained custody of my sister on weekends. There was a few times where I had gone over to his house to watch my sister or whatever, and literally her entire motherhumpin’ room was done in Pokemon. She had Pokemon EVERYTHING. And her dad has a lot of money so I mean she had fancy a$s Pokemon everything, the newest everything. The cherry on top, was that my sister barely knew what pokemon was (we are 7 years apart)….i still wonder if he did that I know it’s extremely juvenile, but it still pisses me off.

15. Why are some teachers like this?

This one hits home. Me and another kid in 6th grade both got 100% on our quiz, so our teacher figured we must’ve cheated. Both of us were perplexed, the quiz just wasn’t that hard. But she was having none of it.

I remember begging her in the hallway, literally sobbing, to not give me a 0 because I didn’t f*cking cheat, and I was a straight A student. She gave me the 0. I stopped caring about As on that very day.

14. That right there will burn your biscuits.

Coming second in a school trivia competition 21 years ago. I had the correct answers on 2 questions that would have sent us to the national champs and was vetoed by the other 3 sh*theads on my team.

13. He can’t be serious.

My copyright law teacher gave us a case for our pass or fail final exam. I solved the case (we needed to predict the outcome based on evidence) and he failed me. Later that day, I decided to look the case up and turns out I was right.

When I confronted him he said the grade was already posted and even though I was right he couldn’t (wouldn’t) do anything about it. Had to retake the class.

12. Reading comprehension people!

When I was in high school, I entered a book quiz and one of the books I chose was Demon Thief by Darren Shan. During the quiz, I was asked what was the main characteristic of the demonata summoned by the punk during the concert.

I said it had three heads. Wrong. The answer was that it had a dyed mohawk. Except it was the punk that summoned it that had the mohawk, not the damned demonata! I lost a point because the question-setter could either not read, not write, or couldn’t remember the book correctly.

11. So early to learn that life lesson.

Kindergarten. Playing with a kid in the sandbox, was a fairly drizzly day. We’re making a castle and there’s a puddle a few feet from us. He wants to dig a moat around the castle, and I say sure.

So he just kinda jams his hand in the dirt and starts pulling, making way too huge of a channel, which he immediately realizes is going to just destroy our castle. So I say “quick build a dam to stop the water!”

He freezes. Stares at me with wide eyes and mouth agape before running off. I think this is strange but ok whatever I saved the castle so I go back to digging when the teacher runs up and grabs me and says to go to time out, to which I obviously protest and say no wtf I didn’t do anything. She then immediately says she knows I said a bad word and to not try and lie, to which I am again confused and say I did not.

After a few back and forths of her trying to pull me away by the arm and me rather violently resisting, it occurs to her to actually ask what happened. I explain the story. I still remember her face kinda dropping, realizing the other little sh*t thought I said “damn” instead of “dam” and then immediately ratting on me. Tries to say well maybe use a different word to which I again vehemently protest against because no that is the correct word for such a situation and that’s just how it works and it’s his fault for not knowing the word, etc, etc, until she finally gives in and explains to the kid that I did not swear, and that no one likes tattletales.

I am in my 30s and on the other side of the country and I STILL remember this as the very instance in which I gazed upon my fellow man and wept, for he is stupid.

10. Parents don’t always know best.

When I got my first car (a really old one) my dad told me I would be responsible for gas money and he would take care of the maintenance.

After a while my brakes would make funny noises and I told my dad. I reminded him every once in a week, maybe half a year and he always told me “yeah, I got it. I will handle it”

My boyfriend at this time wouldn’t let me drive it any further because he was concerned for my safety, so he (boyfriend) had a mechanic look at it.

The mechanic told me that if I would have come sooner, it would have been a 50€ bill to take care of it, but over time the brake got more and more damaged and by then it would have been over 800€ for the repair.

When I told my dad he just said that there is no way that he would spend so much money on a car that had maybe 500€ value left.

I ended up selling the car for scrap value.

That was 10 years ago and I still bring it up to my dad sometimes. If he would have just did something when I first told him it would have been so cheap and easy…

9. What on EARTH.

Reminds me of one of my painful childhood memories. Back in grade school MANY years ago, my very religious teacher believed that “darn” was basically just another way to say “damn”, making it equally blasphemous. I was not aware of this.

So young Turk remarks in anger one day that he had just tripped on the “darn rug”.

Miss HolierThanThou says, “Turk?!? What did you just say???” I had a reputation for being the good kid, the one who NEVER gets in trouble, the one all the teachers LOVE, so my brain quickly scrambled to process the last few minutes. What had I done? What did I say?

Then it hit me. She must have thought I said “damn rug”. So I hurriedly said, “No! I would never say that! I said DARN”


Completely panicked that she wasn’t understanding me I shouted, “NO NO! I’m not saying — that other word — I’m saying DARN! DARN!” It’s been a long time but I think she actually put her hands over her ears and sent me to the Principal’s office. (The first time for such a thing.)

I tearfully explained what happened: “… and then <sob> I said “darn”… <sob> but she thought I said the other word… <sob> but I didn’t… <sob> I just said “darn”. I said dah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah rrrrrrrnnnn. <BAWL> He politely explained that Miss HTT feels that is a bad word and he told me to go back to class and apologize to her, and not to use that word again.

8. This set my blood to boil.

I’ve mentioned this before, but when I was about eight or nine, we had a big project in school which ended with us writing a story. I spent fu*kin’ hours on this thing. It was going to be the best book ever. It was only a matter of time before it was snapped up by some publisher and then it would be the talk of the Scholastic Book Fair, no doubt in my mind. It absolutely had to be in by the time school finished for Christmas, so my teacher could mark it over the break, so I stayed up until about ten o’clock at night for about a week beforehand working on it — which, you know, is the closest thing you get to an all-nighter when you’re about nine. It was my Magnum Opus.

I got back to school in January to find that a) she had lost it, b) she was accusing me of not handing it in, and c) because mine was the only one she couldn’t find, she decided to call me out in front of the class about it. I ended up locking myself in the toilet because I was crying so much. Worst still, it later transpired that when it ‘turned up after all’, she marked it as though it was handed in late, and the bit*h still only gave me a middling grade.

F*ck you, Mrs. Harding.

7. Why are kids so mean?

The first day of 8th grade my best friend and friend group informed me that they would no longer be my friend. To this day, 20 years later, I still don’t understand how or why things ended up that way.

I can only guess because I was the shy nerd of the group and they were trying to fit in with the cool crowd. Regardless, it was a miserable experience that left me with quite a few trust issues.

6. Teachers should not be like that!

When I was 17, in High School, I was dreaming of becoming a published author one day. I had always enjoyed storytelling, and I would always make a special effort to do well in school when it came to creative writing.

At some point during the year, our professor asked us to write him a short story of about a thousand words. I was very excited, because I had tremendous respect for that man, and loved his classes. I really wanted to impress him.

Wrote a sci-fi short story that involved an ice planetoid turned into a digging site for underground resources. Workers lived in stacked boxes apartments and traveled in spheres shooting through a network of large above ground tubes. The plot involved the protagonist uncovering an artificial structure under the ice, then being immediately fired and sent back to Earth in a single person shuttle. It was strongly implied that the single person shuttle was just a way to dispose of workers who knew too much about what the corporation was really digging for.

Anyway, it wasn’t very good, probably a little derivative (I did consume a lot of sci-fi books, movies, games, etc.), and nothing more than you’d expect from an average 17 year old.

But the professor handed it back to me without having even marked it, asking me to turn in another one on very short notice, this time without plagiarizing from some popular novel.

I told him I didn’t, asked what book he thought I plagiarized (because if a book told that story, I honestly wanted to read it), swearing the story was purely my own. I even admitted that I was likely influenced by a lot of things, but still came up with that one organically. He never heard my plea, never even named the book or gave me more of a reason why he thought so poorly of my work.

Lost a lot of respect for him, and a lot of interest in his classes after that.

I’m still pissed about it, and it’s been over 20 years.

5. This is criminal.

My father died in a very bad vehicle roll over a few years ago. I wasn’t allowed near his vehicle in the tow yard until the cops finished their investigation. That took about two weeks.

This entire time, the fu*kwad owner of the yard was charging by the day from day 1 for storage of said vehicle even during the investigation. Was never allowed to thoroughly search his vehicle for lost heirlooms I believe the tow truck driver may have stolen.

4. What in the heck.

When my old boss pulled out the 2020 calendar (in late 2019) and asked everyone what days off they need so we can plan ahead and around. Everyone was spitting off dates. I didn’t have any plans yet so I didn’t request anything until she specifically asked me if I needed/wanted any dates off.

I shrugged and asked for ONE day around my birthday because why not, and she started mocking me in front of everyone. “It’s just a 23rd birthday, why would you need that off? But ooookkkk ….” obviously rolling her eyes, then started treating me like an idiot the rest of the day.

3. Who does that?!

I was at a house party in college and we had to take off our shoes. Some bit*h walked home in my leather knee high boots and I’ve never gotten over it.

She left her dirty a$s shoes behind for me to go home with, so thanks I guess you shoe-thieving wench.

2. A long tale, but worth it.

Had a friend in college borrow my truck when I flew home for a month 1500 miles away. He agreed to the terms of “don’t cross state lines, you only drive it to work and back, and if I find out you did otherwise it’s going to be a big deal.” I wasn’t home a week and I got a call from our group of friends, he had taken the truck down to Connecticut, drove drunk, road raged at someone on the highway and love tapped the back end of a car.

The kicker was he backed into his buddy’s dads brand new Lexus and caused $3000 worth of damage. Needless to say I flew home the next day.

When confronted about it he basically said “I don’t have the money, it’s your problem” so I have my mother, the insurance company, and the Lexus guy’s dad all climbing down my throat to get me to fix the problem. The dad with the Lexus called me to say he was going to file a police report if I didn’t pay, my mother was screaming about the insurance company dropping me. I went to school for the day, got back and he vanished. Cleaned out a bunch of sh*t from the apartment. Stole everybody’s things. The one thing that still makes my blood boil is the fact that one of my good friends that lived with us will vehemently back up the sh*tbag anytime it’s brought up. I understand that he didn’t screw him over, but just denying it and saying that I need to let bygones be bygones is something I cannot do.

To clarify some stuff up,

The reason I said my mom was pissed is because she had warned me. And told me. And told me. Never let anyone drive your truck. For a day or two we didn’t talk but once all the stuff blew over she wasn’t mad. I was only 19 at the time and she chalked it up to a life lesson learned.

I called the insurance agency before I flew home, told them what had happened. Didn’t fib. I called the worthless dirtbag that took my truck and told him that if my truck wasn’t in front of my apartment I was going to report it as stolen, at this point I wish I would’ve. The phone call lasted about 15 minutes and consisted of me screaming at him. I’ve never been one to have any form of anger issues but I genuinely don’t remember anything past the first 3 minutes. Rage blackout is the what it felt like.

When I landed and got to my apartment my truck was there and we had the conversation that resulted in “yeah I can’t pay it I’m broke” I had one of my friends there that picked me up from the airport. He held me back. The next day when I got back from school he had jumped the state line with all of his belonging from the apartment, along with some of my stuff.

A couple days after that the insurance agency called and they asked for the full story again. I told them, and they asked for the guys name and address. I gave them all the information I had and that was all I heard from them. Never got a bill, and my rates never went up.

The Guy who’s dad owned the Lexus got ahold of me to tell me his dad was going to file a police report if I didn’t pay up or if I didn’t give him my insurance info. I told him the insurance company already knows and I said if that he’s going to go after anyone, to go after the dirtbag. Gave him the guys info, and never heard another thing about it from them.

After that transpired the sh*tbag jumped state lines again. Not sure where he went but he did try and reach out to me and I promptly told him to fu*k himself, and to never get ahold of me again.

The friend that tried to back him up when I was pissed about the whole ordeal finally cut the worthless fu*ker out of his life when some of our other friends came forward about some of the stuff he did with my truck (drinking and hit and run) and he finally sided with me. I didn’t talk to him for a while afterwards but we eventually did make up.

1. My heart is hurting.

Ugh. So, my dad and mom got divorced before i was 1 and he would randomly come around once every few years to pretend to be a dad for a week or two then disappear again (this is important to the story).

Anyway, I have ALWAYS sucked at and hated math. We got a homework assignment (I think I was in 1st grade)…we were working on zero times whatever number. I was SUPER excited, because i understood it, and knew i would get all the questions right. The whole worksheet was just questions asking was zero times another number was.

My father made me show him the worksheet when i was finished….and made me change every damn answer because “Wow, you’re stupid! Did you pay attention at all in class???” I explained to the teacher when i turned it in and STILL got a f*cking zero.

Seriously, y’all, I want to go back in time and fight some of these folks!

Do you have a story that would fit on this list? Tell it to us in the comments!