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The original was posted on /r/maliciouscompliance by /u/Illuminatus-Prime on 2025-06-05 01:05:35+00:00.

tl;dr: Like every other SIYL story, it involves an experienced worker, a new “manager”, a “manager’s” decree, malicious compliance, and the “manager” looking like a fool. Fallout may not be what you expect. Names were changed and unnecessary details left out to prevent doxxing.

• • •

Long ago, before ChatGpt, before Reddit, and even before the Internet (ARPANet doesn’t count here), I was a college kid brought in as a part-time bench tech at a family-run appliance store. I did my job well enough to reduce their backlog of repairs to practically zero – only those items awaiting new parts were still on my bench.

Owner’s daughter (“Jane”, nhrn) ran the office. A really nice cutie. She could sell snow to the Eskimos.

Owner hired a new salesperson (“John”, nhrn) who immediately took a shining to Jane and tried to monopolize her attention.

(When I took my Psych classes, I learned he was likely a Narcissist with BPD.)

One day, Jane went across the street for some donuts. I held the door open for her and offered to carry the box to the office.

John immediately tells me to get back to work and to “Stay in my lane” (or words to that effect) in front of Jane, the owner, and a couple of customers.

Cue the MalComp

The next week, John escorts Jane across the street, and comes back alone with not just one, but three boxes of donuts. (Jane had another errand to run.)

I watch from across the salesroom as John tries to pull the “Push” door open. Of course, he fumbles the boxes, which spill onto the sidewalk.

“Daffock is wrong widchu? Why daffock dintchu help me?”

“That’s not in my lane, John – remember?”

Owner comes out, hears both of our stories, tells me to clean up the mess, and takes John into his office and closes the door.

I was able to consolidate the donuts that hadn’t hit the sidewalk into one box. The rest went to feed the dogs out by the dumpsters.

Cue the Fallout

Guess who got fired? The narcissistic bully-boy woofing after the owner’s daughter, or the part-time bench-tech whose efficiency resulted in good customer service and a lot of buffer time?

Clue: Not the narcissist.

I picked up another similar job at the competition across town.