Eight hundred dollars plus. That’s what Jack’s “boys’ night out” bill came to, and he expected his wife, Lora, to foot it. Waitress Melanie, witnessing Lora’s despair, concocted a bold move to ensure Jack’s night didn’t end as he planned.
Ten years. That’s how long I’ve been slinging plates at one of the fanciest restaurants downtown. You see all sorts of folks in this line of work, couples on first dates practically glowing, families celebrating birthdays with sticky-fingered toddlers, and the occasional business lunch that looks more like an interrogation than a meeting. But nothing could have prepared me for what I witnessed the other night…
A waitress going about her usual workday with a warm smile at an elite restaurant | Source: Midjourney
There used to be this couple, Jack and Lora, who were regulars. Cute as a button, always splitting the bill with a smile. They’d come in once a week, order the same decadent chocolate cake for dessert, and steal glances at each other like teenagers.
Lately, though, things had changed. The smiles were gone, replaced by a tense silence that hung heavy between them. And for the past few months, it was always Lora stuck holding the bill folder at the end of the night.
A couple eating in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
Jack, on the other hand, seemed to be indulging in a spending spree. Every time he came in, it was like a parade of the most expensive cuts of meat and bottles of wine you could imagine.
And guess who always ended up footing the bill? Lora, looking increasingly pale and drawn, would swipe her card quietly.
This particular rainy night, though, things went up a whole new level of ridiculous. Jack waltzed in with a gaggle of eight loud, boisterous friends, announcing like a king that it was his “treat.”
A gang of men entering an elite restaurant | Source: Midjourney
They ordered enough burgers and steaks to feed a small army, and while it was all fun and games for them, a knot of worry tightened in my stomach when I didn’t see Lora walk in with them.
Just as I was about to check if she was coming, she arrived, looking like she’d just run a marathon. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her steps faltered slightly as she approached the group.
Jack barely glanced up when she sat down, too busy barking orders at me to refill their drinks.
A sad woman holding her purse | Source: Midjourney
As the night wore on, I cleared away empty plates, my ears pricked towards their table. That’s when I caught a snippet of their conversation that made my blood run cold.
“I won’t pay this time,” Lora told Jack, laced with a tremor I’d never heard before. “Jack, I’m serious.”
He just chuckled. “Sure, babe. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll take care of everything.”
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
Easy for him to say, I thought, fuming silently.
But when the bill arrived, a hefty sum that hovered just north of $800, and Jack shoved it straight into Lora’s hand.
The way her face drained of color, the tears welling up in her eyes as Jack just kept shoving that damned bill at her, felt like some kind of cruel joke.
A bill on the table | Source: Midjourney
Lora bolted for the restroom, excusing herself. I scurried after her, and just as I reached the doorway, a muffled yell exploded from inside.
“So, now I earn 25% more than him and have to pay for all his buddies?! This is RIDICULOUS!” Lora was crying into the phone. “How can he demand I foot the bill all the time? This is so unfair!”
This wasn’t just about money; this was about control. And I wasn’t going to let him bully her like that.
A woman walking away | Source: Pexels
Her tearful phone call echoed in my ears. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I approached Lora as she emerged from the restroom, dabbing her eyes with a crumpled napkin.
“Lora,” I said, “are you alright? Is there anything I can do?”
Her eyes welled up again. “Jack keeps insisting I pay for everything,” she choked out. “I can’t afford to do this all the time!”
An extremely upset woman | Source: Midjourney
There it was, the confirmation of what I’d already suspected. My heart ached for her. This wasn’t right.
But before I could offer any further words of comfort, an idea sparked in my head, a risky one, but maybe, just maybe, it was the only way out for her.
My mind raced. Here I was, a waitress who barely made enough to scrape by in this expensive city, about to potentially risk my job to help a customer.
A worried waitress | Source: Midjourney
But seeing the helpless fear in Lora’s eyes, the way Jack treated her like a walking ATM, I knew what I had to do.
“Listen,” I whispered, “Here’s what we can do. When I come back, pretend you’ve gotten an urgent call and leave right away. Don’t worry about the bill, I’ll handle it.”
Confusion flickered across Lora’s face for a brief moment, but then a spark of hope ignited in her eyes.
“Are you sure?” she whispered back. “What about your job?”
A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney
I squeezed her hand reassuringly, a silent promise passing between us. “Don’t worry about me,” I said. “Just trust me.”
She hesitated for a beat longer, then with a nervous nod, she reached for her phone and started tapping away, approaching her table.
My heart hammered in my chest as I retreated back towards the kitchen, praying my plan wouldn’t backfire spectacularly.
A restaurant kitchen | Source: Midjourney
A few minutes felt like an eternity as I battled the urge to peek out from the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, I plastered on my brightest smile and approached their table.
Jack, still engrossed in conversation with his buddies, didn’t even look up as I cleared my throat.
“Excuse me, sir,” I began, my voice loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. “The manager just informed me that there’s been a bit of a mix-up with your reservation.”
A waitress smiling | Source: Midjourney
Jack puffed out his chest like a rooster about to crow. “What mix-up? We made a reservation for nine just fine.”
“Well, sir,” I continued, my voice dripping with fake sympathy, “unfortunately, it appears there was a double booking for your table tonight. We have another large party arriving shortly, and they specifically requested this booth.”
Jack’s face contorted in disbelief. His “friends,” sensing trouble brewing, started shifting uncomfortably in their seats, their animated chatter dying down to a low murmur.
A startled man looking up | Source: Midjourney
“But… but we ordered already,” Jack stammered, his attitude taking a noticeable dip as he glanced at the mountain of barely-touched food.
“I understand, sir,” I said, my voice firm but polite. “However, since the reservation was made under a different name, we wouldn’t be able to accommodate you at this table any longer.”
A waitress smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney
Jack’s bluster faded, replaced by a panicked desperation.
He looked around the restaurant wildly, hoping for a miracle. There were no empty booths big enough for his group, and the scattered tables weren’t exactly ideal for the image he was trying to project.
“Can’t we just move to another big table?” he pleaded
A man pleading | Source: Midjourney
“Unfortunately, sir,” I replied apologetically, “we’re completely booked tonight. The best I can offer is to pack your food to go, or perhaps…” I paused dramatically.
“Perhaps, you and your friends could head over to the bar down the street. They have plenty of space for large groups.”
Jack’s face turned the color of a well-done steak. He knew that bar — it was a dive known for its greasy comfort food and cheap beer, a far cry from the upscale atmosphere he’d been trying to impress his “friends” with.
A waitress talking to someone | Source: Midjourney
Just then, as if on cue, Lora “remembered” her “urgent call” and stood up, feigning panic.
“Oh my gosh, I completely forgot!” she exclaimed, her voice laced with manufactured worry. “I have an important client meeting. I have to leave right away!”
With a quick “thank you” to me and a pointed look at Jack that spoke volumes, she grabbed her purse and walked out, leaving a stunned and defeated Jack behind.
A woman storming out | Source: Pexels
His “friends,” catching the drift, started making excuses for their own “sudden emergencies.” One by one, they slunk out, abandoning their leader like rats fleeing a sinking ship.
Jack, now completely alone with the remnants of his overpriced meal and the colossal bill, finally realized the trap he’d fallen into.
“But… but the bill!” he stammered, his voice high-pitched and frantic.
A man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
I shrugged apologetically. “Unfortunately, sir, you’re responsible for the bill for the entire party.”
Jack sputtered and argued, his face turning from red to purple. He demanded to speak to the manager, but I politely informed him that he was busy.
In the end, with no Lora to share the financial burden and his “friends” long gone, Jack was forced to pay for the entire meal, his grand night out with the guys dissolving into a bitter aftertaste of loneliness and a hefty bill.
A shocked man looking around | Source: Midjourney
The look on his face as he begrudgingly swiped his card was pure satisfaction.
The next day, just as the lunch crowd started trickling in, the door opened and Lora walked in. She scanned the room until her eyes landed on me, and she bee-lined straight for my station.
Man getting his card swiped | Source: Pexels
“Melanie!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth. “I just wanted to thank you again for everything you did last night. You saved me more than just money, you saved me from…” she trailed off, her voice catching slightly.
“From being bullied,” I finished for her, my voice soft. We both knew the truth.
A waitress with a radiating smile plastered on her face | Source: Midjourney
Lora nodded, her eyes welling up. She reached into her purse and pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill.
“Here,” she insisted, pushing it towards me. “This is for you, for your trouble.”
I hesitated. I hadn’t done it for the money, but seeing the genuine gratitude in Lora’s eyes, I couldn’t refuse.
A woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Lora,” I said, accepting the bill with a smile. “But honestly, seeing the look on Jack’s face was reward enough!”
We both chuckled, the shared experience creating a sudden bond between us.
“So,” I said, a mischievous glint in my eyes, “what are you going to do with all that extra money you saved last night?!”
A waitress with a mischievous glint in her eyes | Source: Midjourney
Lora’s eyes sparkled. “Well,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, “I was thinking of treating myself to a fancy spa day. Maybe even a massage.”
We both burst out laughing, the tension of the previous night completely dissolved.
As the day wore on, I couldn’t help but think about Lora and the countless others who might be stuck in similar situations. Maybe, I thought, my little act of rebellion could inspire someone else to stand up for what’s right.
A waitress lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
Lora’s ordeal made me realize that sometimes, the most valuable things we can offer aren’t on the menu. Sometimes, the best service we can provide is a little bit of kindness, a dash of courage, and a whole lot of support.
So, people, ever witnessed someone get bullied like that? What would you have done?
A waitress with a calm look etched on her face | Source: Midjourney
Off The RecordConversei com meus netos sobre meu plano depois de saber que ela pune os filhos mandando-os me visitar
Gina fica furiosa ao saber que sua nora pune seus netos usando ela e sua casa. No entanto, ela garante que seus netos se sintam confortáveis e protegidos com ela em vez de gritar com eles. Mais tarde, ela dá uma lição para sua nora que ela nunca vai esquecer.
Jacob, você comeu aquele doce que a mamãe estava guardando para o papai, e essa é a única razão pela qual estamos aqui. A mamãe te avisou para não fazer isso!” Algo que meu neto Thomas disse ao irmão mais novo chamou minha atenção.
Na cozinha, parei no meio do caminho entre a geladeira e o balcão, ouvindo se havia algum som adicional. O pensamento de que eu poderia ter ouvido Thomas direito fez meu coração afundar, pois significava que meus netos não queriam realmente vir aqui.
Caminhei lentamente em direção a eles, tentando parecer despreocupado.
“O que você quer dizer com isso, querida?”, perguntei.
Thomas levantou a cabeça, os olhos arregalados de medo de ser descoberto.
Ele disse: “Ah, nada, vovó”, um tanto abruptamente.
“Não, sério, está tudo bem,” eu me ajoelhei até o nível deles e pressionei suavemente. “Você pode me contar qualquer coisa.”
Thomas olhou para Jacob, que segurava seu brinquedo com força e mordiscava o lábio desconfortavelmente.
“Bem, toda vez que fazemos algo travesso, ou pedimos algo que não deveríamos…” Thomas fez uma pausa.
“Claro, vá em frente”, eu insisti suavemente.
“Mamãe disse que nos mandará para ‘a casa daquela bruxa’.”
“Aquela bruxa?” Atordoado, repeti.
Amanda, minha nora, nunca me demonstrou afeição, mas contar esse tipo de história para as crianças? Era tão cortante quanto uma faca no peito. Meu objetivo sempre foi proporcionar aos meus netos um ambiente seguro e acolhedor em minha casa.
Mas o que era isso?
para descobrir que Amanda estava influenciando as percepções das pessoas para que fossem contra mim?
Respirando fundo, tentei controlar minha voz. Fiquei pensando no que meus netos pensavam de mim, e meu coração caiu.
Ah, querida, eu disse. “Eu nunca quis que você visse minha casa como uma fonte de punição. Você não tem obrigação de vir aqui se não quiser.”
“Mas nós gostamos daqui!” Thomas deixou escapar. “Mamãe acabou de nos avisar que este lugar pode ser amaldiçoado. E não é uma coisa horrível ser amaldiçoado? É horrível.”
Isso era excessivo. Isso era simplesmente absurdo demais. A frieza de Amanda comigo era tolerável, mas trazer as crianças para isso era demais. Isso estava começando a ficar pessoal.
Eu precisava de uma estratégia para demonstrar genuinamente a Amanda que eu não permitiria que ela sabotasse meu relacionamento com meus netos e para lembrá-la da importância dos valores familiares.
Cumprimentei os meninos com um sorriso agradável e um ar de mistério na próxima vez que eles apareceram.
Eu disse a eles: “Vamos, vamos comer uma torta.” “Mas eu também tenho um segredo para compartilhar com vocês.”
Seus olhos enormes me observavam.
“O que foi, vovó?” Com um tom cheio de admiração, Jacob perguntou.
Baixei a voz para um sussurro de conspiração.
“Sua mãe estava certa”, comentei. “Eu sou uma bruxa.”
Os olhos de Jake se arregalaram e Thomas soltou um grito.
“Mas não se preocupe,” eu disse apressadamente. “Eu nunca te machucaria. Eu vou te ensinar mágica, na verdade.”
“Sério?” Com uma pitada de suspeita misturada com ansiedade, Thomas questionou.
“Sim, é verdade”, eu disse, guiando-os até minha oficina de mago improvisada na sala de estar.
Praticamos truques básicos de mágica, assistimos a tutoriais de truques de mágica no YouTube e fizemos “poções” com bicarbonato de sódio, corante alimentício e várias plantas e temperos que eu tinha espalhados pela cozinha.
Os meninos ficaram totalmente cativados.
“Vovó, isso é tão legal!” Uma pequena ‘poção’ borbulhou e borbulhou, e Jacob exclamou.
Dei-lhe um pequeno aceno e comentei: “Estou feliz que você pense assim.” “Vocês dois são bruxos muito talentosos.”
Os meninos começaram a ficar ansiosos para me ver conforme os dias passavam. Um dia, meu filho Brian ligou e me contou tudo.
“Não sei o que você está fazendo, mãe”, ele respondeu. “No entanto, os meninos adoram estar lá. Eles estão constantemente pedindo para Amanda ou eu deixá-los lá.”
Com um sorriso distraído, respondi: “Estou tão feliz, querida.”
Eu já havia instruído os meninos a manterem nossos truques e a preparação de poções em segredo de seus pais. Não que eu estivesse escondendo algo de você ou algo assim. Eu simplesmente queria adiar a revelação até o momento ideal.
“O que vocês fazem?” , Brian perguntou curioso.
“Passamos tempo juntos e eu os deixo ser crianças”, respondi.
Um dia, os meninos imploraram para a mãe deixá-los passar a noite lá, pouco antes de Amanda chegar para buscá-los.
“Não, rapazes,” ela comentou duramente. “Temos que começar cedo amanhã, e eu não posso voltar para este lado da cidade.”
Os rapazes, no entanto, persistiram em seus gritos e súplicas.
Com um tom sarcástico, respondi: “Ah, acho que você está sendo punida sendo levada para casa”, olhando para Amanda.
Minhas palavras foram reconhecidas como sendo dela, e ela empalideceu.
“Gina, não era essa minha intenção quando disse isso”, ela gaguejou.
“Olha, Amanda, podemos discutir, mas não ouse envolver as crianças nisso. Por que você as regalaria com histórias sobre mim também? Isso é completamente inapropriado.”
Com um olhar de humilhação e culpa cobrindo suas feições delicadas, ela olhou para baixo.
“Eu não percebi o que eu disse”, Amanda continuou. “Eu só disse isso por raiva porque os meninos estavam sendo turbulentos.”
“É só que eu quero que eles se sintam amados e seguros aqui”, eu disse. “Podemos concordar com isso?”
Minha nora assentiu, com os olhos cheios de lágrimas.
“Claro, Gina, eu concordo. Sério, peço desculpas.”
“Eu aceito suas desculpas,” eu disse calmamente. “Mas agora precisamos seguir em frente, pelo bem deles.”
Depois disso, Amanda e eu experimentamos uma calma momentânea, e as visitas dos meninos não tinham a ansiedade ameaçadora pairando sobre eles. Nós nos divertimos muito rindo e aproveitando a companhia um do outro, com um certo charme envolvendo cada visita.
Coloquei os meninos para dormir uma noite para que Brian e Amanda pudessem ter um encontro. Os meninos iriam passar a noite comigo.
“Vovó, você é realmente uma bruxa?” Jacob perguntou baixinho.
Sorrindo, tirei uma mecha de cabelo da testa dele.
“Não, meu querido filho”, respondi. “Não estou. No entanto, se você acredita em magia, ela existe. Ela é encontrada em nossa afeição compartilhada, em nosso prazer e nas memórias que criamos.”
Jacob, que estava meio dormindo, comentou: “Vovó, eu gosto do seu tipo de magia.” “É menos assustador do que as maldições.”
Apaguei a luz e acrescentei: “Eu amo vocês dois, muito.”
Ainda entusiasmados com suas mais novas descobertas “mágicas” , os meninos correram para a cozinha enquanto eu preparava o café da manhã na manhã seguinte.
“Vovó, podemos fazer mais poções hoje?” Com os olhos correndo pela cozinha para ver o que eu tinha nos balcões, Jacob perguntou.
“Obviamente,” eu ri. “Mas primeiro, que tal umas panquecas?”
Houve uma batida na porta enquanto nos preparávamos para jantar. Amanda estava ali, cautelosa, mas cheia de esperança.
Ela murmurou, “Bom dia,” calmamente. “Eu estava esperando me juntar a você para o café da manhã.”
“Por favor, entre”, eu disse a ela. “Estamos prestes a começar.”
Amanda ouviu os meninos falando animadamente sobre suas façanhas fantásticas enquanto comíamos. Com um calor verdadeiro em seus olhos que eu não tinha notado antes, ela sorriu.
Ela murmurou, “Obrigada,” enquanto os meninos iam brincar lá fora. “Por tudo.”
“É tudo por eles”, olhei de volta para ela. “Eles merecem se sentir amados e felizes.”
“E eu sinto muito pelo que eu disse antes”, ela respondeu. “Eu cometi o erro de retratar sua casa como um covil de punição. De jeito nenhum. Na verdade, é mais aconchegante e quente que a nossa.”
Amanda fez um esforço para se comunicar mais comigo nas semanas seguintes. Sempre que podia, ela tentava convidar os rapazes e sempre trazia assados.
Brian comentou uma vez, “Ela está tentando, mãe,” quando chegou para pegar os meninos. Ela parecia ansiosa para visitar e passar um tempo com você e os meninos, como você pode ver. Isso significa muito para ela.
Dei um sorriso ao meu filho.
“Já era hora”, declarei.
Como você teria respondido nessa situação?
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