Some people treat customer service like a sport.
They call in hot, they yell louder than a car alarm, and they expect the world to rearrange itself because they said so. In this Reddit story from Finland, one customer didn’t just complain, she tried to run a maintenance company like she owned it. The twist is, she technically had the authority to request work because she chaired the board of her housing company, the Finnish version of that “someone has to do it” role nobody wants.
So when the parking garage got a little dusty, she didn’t ask for a scheduled wash. She went full rage mode. She demanded a massive garage with 150+ spots get washed twice a month, then shut down the one thing that might have saved her from herself.
“I don’t care about the costs. Just get it done.”
The employee on the phone heard that and thought, alright, say less. He did what every seasoned customer service worker does when someone acts feral, he got it in writing, looped in the boss, and followed the request exactly.
Then the invoices started landing.
Now, read the full story:
This is the kind of malicious compliance that makes every customer service worker sit up straighter.
OP didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t clap back. He did something way scarier to an ego-driven bully. He believed her.
Then he documented her demand, priced it correctly, and let reality do the spanking.
Also, the detail about residents asking why the garage kept getting washed cracks me up. Imagine moving your car twice a month because one board chair decided dust counts as a personal attack.
Now let’s talk about why this hit so hard, and why it keeps happening in real life.
OP’s story feels funny because the karma lands clean. Still, it also points to a real workplace problem: people who treat frontline staff like punching bags.
Christine Porath wrote in Harvard Business Review that “Today’s public-facing employees deal with insults, rants, and rudeness,” and leaders need to protect them. That line fits this story like a glove. OP fielded a routine service question that turned into verbal abuse in seconds.
Workplace incivility also costs real money. SHRM reported that U.S. organizations lose roughly $2 billion a day from incivility through reduced productivity and absenteeism. Even if this story happened in Finland, the pattern travels. When someone calls screaming, the worker loses time, focus, and patience. The company wastes energy on de-escalation instead of actual work.
So why did OP’s approach work?
Because he treated it like a governance problem, not a feelings problem.
In these housing-company setups, the board makes decisions about maintenance and fees. A Finnish housing company overview explains that owners elect a board, and the board makes decisions on finances including monthly maintenance fees. That chair role comes with influence, which explains why OP couldn’t just laugh and hang up.
Finnish law also expects management to act with due care and promote the interests of the housing company. That matters here because “I don’t care about the costs” collides with the job of a board chair, which includes caring about the costs for everyone else.
OP did three smart things that kept this compliant and survivable.
First, he clarified authority. He didn’t treat the caller as “a random rude resident.” He treated her as someone whose request could commit the organization to real spend.
Second, he got it in writing. This is classic CYA, and it’s the difference between a funny story and a disciplinary meeting. The moment she tried to accuse them of lying, the email ended the debate.
Third, he executed exactly what she demanded, at the real price of “off-contract” work. Many people don’t realize how fast costs rise when a task stops being routine and starts becoming a special request that disrupts scheduling.
This story also shows why companies need explicit policies for abusive callers. HBR has argued that organizations should “start managing relationships with abusive customers in a disciplined way.” Disciplined doesn’t mean emotional. It means consistent rules: written approvals, clear scopes, transparent pricing, and escalation paths.
If OP’s company had wanted to push further, they could have required the board to approve the change formally, not just the chair. That would align with the duty to act in the housing company’s interest. Still, OP’s method created a fast accountability loop. The board saw the money leaving, traced it to one person’s demand, then removed that person’s power.
The real lesson: if you want to stop bullies at work, don’t match their volume. Build a paper trail, follow process, and let consequences stay attached to the decision-maker who demanded the chaos.
Check out how the community responded:
A big chunk of Reddit basically said, “This healed something in me,” because watching a rude caller eat her own words hits like comfort food.
Some commenters focused on the craft side, the unglamorous art of covering yourself and letting paperwork punch people for you.
Others brought their own “tiny HOA tyrant” trauma, and the stories sounded painfully familiar.
This story lands because it feels like justice with receipts.
A board chair tried to flex power through pure volume. She demanded an absurd service level, refused to hear the cost, then acted shocked when the cost showed up. The board didn’t punish the company. They punished the decision-maker. That’s how it should work.
Also, OP accidentally delivered a public service announcement for anyone who works customer-facing roles. Document the request. Confirm it. Price it correctly. Then let the invoice teach the lesson you can’t teach on the phone.
At the same time, you can feel a little bad for the residents who had to move their cars twice a month for three months. They paid for one person’s ego until the board stepped in.
So what do you think? If someone has authority and makes a reckless demand, should companies follow it exactly, or push back harder to protect everyone else? And if you were on that board, would you have tried to claw the money back from her, or would you just remove her and move on?
