A wealthy young woman makes fun of the janitor at her father’s company, and he decides to teach her a lesson she will never forget.
Danielle Grobber had always gotten what she wanted. She was pretty, smart, talented, and very, very rich. At least, her father was very rich, and she always thought his money belonged to her.
Danielle, or Danie, as her friends called her, was a bit spoiled, but she usually used her charm and bright smile to get out of trouble. Then she crossed a line, and her father gave her a lesson she would never forget.
Danielle was excited to go on a two-week vacation to the Caribbean. She had convinced her father to take her shopping, even though she didn’t really need anything; she just loved spending time with him.
Unfortunately, her dad had to skip their lunch to handle some urgent matters. So, Danielle wandered around until she found a famous fast food restaurant. She ordered a burger, fries, a large soda, and an apple pie.
After getting her food, she walked back to her dad’s building, which had a nice lawn with trees, benches, and fountains. She sat down to eat while texting her friends on her phone.
When she finished, she wiped her mouth, crumpled the napkin, and put on her lipstick. Then she got up and walked away, leaving the trash on the bench.
A voice suddenly stopped her. “Excuse me, miss!” it said. “Please pick up your trash and throw it in the bin.”
Danie turned around and saw a thin old man in a janitor’s uniform who was sweeping the path. “Excuse me?” she asked. “Are you talking to ME?”
“Yes, young lady,” he replied. “This park is for everyone who works here, and it’s not fair to leave trash behind.”
“I don’t clean up!” Danie said proudly. “People clean up for me. People like you—the servant class. Isn’t that your job? So just do it!”
The elderly man turned red. “Young lady,” he said. “My job is to keep this building and garden clean, but what you did is rude…”
Danie interrupted him. “You work for my father, so you work for me! If I tell you to clean up, you clean up. If I tell you to lick my shoes, you do that too, or I’ll get you fired!”
Just then, Danie heard a loud voice: “DANIELLE!” She turned to see her father looking very angry. “Who do you think you are?” Jack Grobber asked. “How dare you treat this man poorly? He has worked for me for over 20 years, and he has a family!”
“Daddy?” Danie said in her sweetest voice. “Please don’t be mad! I’m so sorry!” But her father saw a hint of mockery in her smile. Danie thought she would get away with it, just like always.
“Apologize to Mr. Terence, Danielle,” Jack ordered. He watched as she turned to the janitor, trying to act charming, but he knew it was fake.
Jack thought, “It’s my fault. I have to fix this!” But how could he change a lifetime of being spoiled and teach her about respect and responsibility?
Then he had a great idea. “Mr. Terence, you look tired!” he said. “I think you need a vacation!”
Mr. Terence smiled and shook his head. “My wife says the same, Mr. Grobber, but I’m saving my vacation days for Christmas with the grandkids!”
“That’s okay, Mr. Terence,” Jack said. “I’m giving you two weeks off and an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas for you and your wife!”
Mr. Terence was shocked. “Sir? The Bahamas? But who will do my job?”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Terence,” Jack said with a smile. “My daughter Danielle will be happy to do your job while you’re away to make up for how she treated you.”
“WHAT?” screamed Danie. “Are you crazy, Dad? I’m going on vacation!”
“Not anymore,” Jack said. “Mr. and Mrs. Terence will go instead, and you will take his place while he is away.”
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!” Danie yelled. “I’m not a janitor! Cleaning toilets? Sweeping? Picking up trash? I won’t do it!”
“Yes, you will,” her father said coldly. “If you don’t, I’ll cut off your allowance and take away your convertible…”
“It’s MY car!” Danie cried.
“No, Danielle,” Jack said softly. “It’s MY car. I pay for it all. Everything you have is because of me. It’s time you learn how hard people work for every dollar.”
Danie knew her father well, and she could see in his eyes that she had crossed a line. He would not change his mind!
“You start on Monday,” Jack told her. Then he turned to Mr. Terence. “You should go home and pack! Enjoy your trip!”
On Monday morning, Danie showed up in her uniform, ready to clean and sweep. By the end of the day, she was exhausted, her pretty nails were ruined, and her soft hands were sore.
When Mr. Terence returned from the Bahamas with a nice tan, he told Mr. Grobber that Danielle had done a great job keeping everything clean—no trash in the garden!
From then on, Danie never disrespected anyone who worked hard because she understood how tough that job really was!
Danielle was excited to go on a two-week vacation to the Caribbean. She had convinced her father to take her shopping, even though she didn’t really need anything; she just loved spending time with him.
Unfortunately, her dad had to skip their lunch to handle some urgent matters. So, Danielle wandered around until she found a famous fast food restaurant. She ordered a burger, fries, a large soda, and an apple pie.
After getting her food, she walked back to her dad’s building, which had a nice lawn with trees, benches, and fountains. She sat down to eat while texting her friends on her phone.
When she finished, she wiped her mouth, crumpled the napkin, and put on her lipstick. Then she got up and walked away, leaving the trash on the bench.
A voice suddenly stopped her. “Excuse me, miss!” it said. “Please pick up your trash and throw it in the bin.”
Danie turned around and saw a thin old man in a janitor’s uniform who was sweeping the path. “Excuse me?” she asked. “Are you talking to ME?”
“Yes, young lady,” he replied. “This park is for everyone who works here, and it’s not fair to leave trash behind.”
“I don’t clean up!” Danie said proudly. “People clean up for me. People like you—the servant class. Isn’t that your job? So just do it!”
The elderly man turned red. “Young lady,” he said. “My job is to keep this building and garden clean, but what you did is rude…”
Danie interrupted him. “You work for my father, so you work for me! If I tell you to clean up, you clean up. If I tell you to lick my shoes, you do that too, or I’ll get you fired!”
Just then, Danie heard a loud voice: “DANIELLE!” She turned to see her father looking very angry. “Who do you think you are?” Jack Grobber asked. “How dare you treat this man poorly? He has worked for me for over 20 years, and he has a family!”
“Daddy?” Danie said in her sweetest voice. “Please don’t be mad! I’m so sorry!” But her father saw a hint of mockery in her smile. Danie thought she would get away with it, just like always.
“Apologize to Mr. Terence, Danielle,” Jack ordered. He watched as she turned to the janitor, trying to act charming, but he knew it was fake.
Jack thought, “It’s my fault. I have to fix this!” But how could he change a lifetime of being spoiled and teach her about respect and responsibility?
Then he had a great idea. “Mr. Terence, you look tired!” he said. “I think you need a vacation!”
Mr. Terence smiled and shook his head. “My wife says the same, Mr. Grobber, but I’m saving my vacation days for Christmas with the grandkids!”
“That’s okay, Mr. Terence,” Jack said. “I’m giving you two weeks off and an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas for you and your wife!”
Mr. Terence was shocked. “Sir? The Bahamas? But who will do my job?”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Terence,” Jack said with a smile. “My daughter Danielle will be happy to do your job while you’re away to make up for how she treated you.”
“WHAT?” screamed Danie. “Are you crazy, Dad? I’m going on vacation!”
“Not anymore,” Jack said. “Mr. and Mrs. Terence will go instead, and you will take his place while he is away.”
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!” Danie yelled. “I’m not a janitor! Cleaning toilets? Sweeping? Picking up trash? I won’t do it!”
“Yes, you will,” her father said coldly. “If you don’t, I’ll cut off your allowance and take away your convertible…”
“It’s MY car!” Danie cried.
“No, Danielle,” Jack said softly. “It’s MY car. I pay for it all. Everything you have is because of me. It’s time you learn how hard people work for every dollar.”
Danie knew her father well, and she could see in his eyes that she had crossed a line. He would not change his mind!
“You start on Monday,” Jack told her. Then he turned to Mr. Terence. “You should go home and pack! Enjoy your trip!”
On Monday morning, Danie showed up in her uniform, ready to clean and sweep. By the end of the day, she was exhausted, her pretty nails were ruined, and her soft hands were sore.
When Mr. Terence returned from the Bahamas with a nice tan, he told Mr. Grobber that Danielle had done a great job keeping everything clean—no trash in the garden!
From then on, Danie never disrespected anyone who worked hard because she understood how tough that job really was!
New Homeowners Demanded That I Remove ‘My Garbage’ From the Garage – a Week Later, They Called Begging Me To Return It
When the entitled Mitchells demanded that I remove some “garbage” from the garage of my late parents’ home, I begrudgingly complied. But a week later, once they realized the true value of those items, they called and begged me to return them. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to teach them a lesson.
I never thought selling my parents’ house would be this complicated. I mean, I had already spent weeks cleaning, organizing, and reliving memories I wasn’t quite ready to part with.
Then I got hit with a ridiculous request from the new owners. When I got the call from my realtor two days after the closing, I knew my work wasn’t done.
A tense woman | Source: Pexels
“Joyce, the new owners are complaining about some ‘garbage’ left in the garage,” my realtor, Sarah, said, her voice tense with the stress of mediating between me and the Mitchells.
“Garbage?” I echoed, baffled. I had meticulously cleaned every inch of that place. “What are they talking about?”
“Apparently, they’re saying you left behind a bunch of stuff and they want it gone immediately. They’re threatening to charge you for additional cleaning costs if you don’t take care of it.”
A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Pexels
I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Of course they are. Alright, I’ll drive back and sort it out. Can’t have them messing with my credit or anything.”
Balancing life as a widowed single mother of three was tough enough without adding entitled new homeowners into the mix. My kids, Emma, Jake, and Liam, needed me, but so did this situation.
So, I took a day off from work, arranged for a friend to watch the kids, and prepared for the two-hour drive back to my parents’ old house.
Aerial view of a road | Source: Pexels
As I drove, I mentally braced myself for what I assumed would be a minor cleanup. The Mitchells had seemed alright during the sale process, but now their true colors were showing.
Rich people’s problems, I thought. Must be nice to have nothing better to do than harass someone over imaginary trash.
When I finally arrived, I unlocked the garage and was hit with a wave of irritation.
“This is the garbage?” I snapped. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
An outraged woman | Source: Pexels
My parents had built this house when they both retired and the so-called “garbage” was spare building materials.
It included valuable items like extra hardwood flooring, custom tiles, expensive light bulbs for the high-end lighting fixtures, and custom paint cans with specific color codes for the house.
There was even the middle section of a custom dining room table that was part of the original design.
Unbelievable.
I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, cursing under my breath.
A woman rolling up her sleeves | Source: Pexels
Hours passed as I carefully loaded everything into my van. The Mitchells had acknowledged these items during the house inspection—had even seemed interested in them. Now, they were nothing but an inconvenience to their grand renovation plans.
Just as I was strapping down the last paint can, Thomas and Shelley arrived. Shelley, with her perfectly coiffed hair and designer sunglasses perched on her head, looked at me with thinly veiled disdain.
“About time you got here,” Thomas said, crossing his arms. “We’ve been waiting all morning.”
A man crossing his arms | Midjourney
“Yeah, well, some of us have actual responsibilities,” I snapped, immediately regretting my tone but too tired to care.
Shelley glanced into the van. “I hope you’re planning to take all of that with you. We don’t need any of your junk cluttering up our space.”
“Junk?” I laughed, a bitter edge to my voice. “This ‘junk’ is worth a lot more than you realize. Extra flooring, custom tiles, specialty light bulbs, and paint with the exact codes for this house. I was doing you a favor by leaving it behind.”
A woman gesturing with one finger | Source: Pexels
Thomas scoffed. “We don’t need these old, dusty things. We’ll buy new materials.”
I shook my head, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Well, good luck with that. It’s all yours now. I’m done.”
Driving back, a mix of frustration and satisfaction battled within me. Sure, it was infuriating that the Mitchells didn’t appreciate the value of what I’d left, but at least I’d done the right thing.
Maybe I could sell the stuff and make some extra cash. God knows we could use it.
A woman driving | Source: Pexels
A week later, I was back to my usual routine when my phone rang. It was Sarah again. “Joyce, you’re not going to believe this.”
“What now?”
“The Mitchells need those materials back. Turns out they can’t proceed with their renovations without them.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. They’re practically begging for you to return everything.”
“Wow,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Looks like I’m not the only one with responsibilities, after all.”
A smug woman | Source: Pexels
It was almost poetic, the irony of it all. The Mitchells, who had dismissed me so easily, were now at my mercy. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction.
But I also saw an opportunity to teach them a valuable lesson about humility and respect.
I called Thomas later that afternoon. “Hi Thomas, it’s Joyce. Sarah told me you need those materials, after all. I’ve been thinking about your situation, and I believe I can help.”
“Oh, thank God,” he said, relief evident in his voice.
A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney
“We really need those items back. What do we need to do?”
“Well,” I began, savoring the moment, “considering the effort and time it took for me to remove everything, plus the inconvenience and the storage costs, I think it’s only fair you compensate me for it. And let’s not forget the actual value of the materials.”
There was a long silence on the other end. “How much are we talking about?” he finally asked, his tone wary.
I named my price, deliberately setting it high.
A smug woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
“And just so you know,” I added, “I’ve already got interested buyers for the hardwood and other materials. So, if you’re not willing to pay, I can easily sell them.”
“That’s outrageous!” Shelley’s voice cut in, sharp and indignant. “You’re extorting us!”
“I’m merely asking for fair compensation,” I replied calmly. “You called these items ‘garbage’ and demanded their removal. I went out of my way to do that for you, and now you realize their value. I think it’s reasonable to be compensated for my time, effort, and the storage costs.”
A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Let’s be clear,” Thomas interjected, trying to regain control. “We’ll pay, but not that much. It’s absurd!”
I held my ground. “That’s my offer. Take it or leave it. Your renovation plans are at a standstill without these materials, right?”
The silence that followed was deafening. I could almost see them seething on the other end of the line.
“Alright,” Thomas finally said, his voice tight with anger. “We’ll pay your price.”
A woman grinning | Source: Unsplash
The next day, we arranged to meet at the house. As I unloaded the van, I could see the strain on their faces. This was more than just a financial transaction; it was a humbling experience for them.
Shelley looked particularly sour, but Thomas seemed to be trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.
“I hope you understand now,” I said, handing over the final box of custom tiles, “the importance of respecting people’s time and effort. What you dismissed as garbage turned out to be essential for your plans.”
Custom tiles | Source: Pexels
Thomas nodded, his expression hard to read. “We understand,” he said quietly. “And we apologize for the way we treated you.”
Shelley mumbled something that might have been an apology, though it sounded more like a begrudging acknowledgment. I didn’t press it. I had what I needed—a sense of justice and a sizable compensation.
Driving away, I felt a surge of accomplishment. I had stood my ground and turned a frustrating situation into a positive outcome for my family. The money would go a long way.
A confident woman | Source: Pexels
Maybe we’d finally take that vacation we’d been dreaming about, or I could start a college fund for the kids. It marked a new chapter for us, one of empowerment and resilience.
That evening, as I sat around the dinner table with Emma, Jake, and Liam, I felt a profound sense of satisfaction.
“What’s for dinner, Mom?” Jake asked, eyeing the stove.
“Something special,” I said with a smile. “We’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?” Emma asked, her curiosity piqued.
A girl smiling | Source: Pexels
“Let’s just say, sometimes standing up for yourself pays off in unexpected ways,” I replied, ruffling her hair. “And I think we’ve earned a little celebration.”
We enjoyed a rare meal out that night, the kids’ faces lighting up as I told them about our potential vacation. They were ecstatic, their excitement infectious.
And as I tucked them into bed later that night, I couldn’t help but feel grateful. Life had thrown us a curveball, but we had hit it out of the park. The Mitchells might have learned a lesson, but so had I. We were stronger, more resilient, and ready to face whatever came next.
A child sleeping | Source: Pexels
Like this story? Read this one next: When Grandma Evelyn catches her daughter-in-law, Jessica, discarding her gifts, she hides her shock and plans a clever lesson. Visiting unannounced, Evelyn endures Jessica’s false affection, setting the stage for a heartwarming and humorous confrontation that teaches the value of family respect.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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