One day, an old lady got drenched in heavy rain after a sudden outpour. She decided to seek shelter at a famous cafe, only to be kicked out by the restaurant manager. What happens next stuns the arrogant employee.
Linda Meyers was on her way to dinner when heavy rain suddenly started pouring. She didn’t have an umbrella with her, so her well-kept hair was suddenly damp and all over her face. Her blouse and jacket looked worn out after they got soaked as well.
The closest establishment to her at the time was a famous cafe that rich and famous people would frequent. As she got to the entrance, she was suddenly stopped by the porter.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Ma’am, this is an exclusive cafe. You need a reservation to enter,” he started, before looking at her from head to toe. “It seems you can hardly afford to dine in here, too,” he muttered.
Offended by the rude remark, she asked the porter to call the restaurant manager. But instead of letting her in, the manager echoed the porter’s sentiments and asked her to leave.
“Ma’am, I’m currently hosting over a hundred people inside. Let’s not waste our time here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the manager, whose nameplate said “Simon,” told Linda.
“I just need a place to stay until the rain dies down. I’ll even order,” she insisted.
“I can’t let you go in looking like that. You’re going to scare away all of our guests,” Simon shook his head. At that, the woman left, trying to find another place to wait.
The next day, when Simon got to work, the cafe owner was already there. He immediately called Simon over. “Today is a very special day. We have an important guest coming, my friend and his wife. They’re potential buyers of this cafe. That said, everything must be in top shape.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Simon oriented the waiters on what to do that day, making sure everything was well-prepared for their VIP guests’ arrival. That evening, the owner called Simon to their table.
“Let me introduce you to our manager. He is an excellent part of our team. He knows his job and is very kind, sensitive, sympathetic, and helpful,” the owner said. At that, the woman turned to him with a smile on her face.
“Very nice indeed. I can see that he is exactly the way you described him to be,” the woman, who turned out to be Linda, said.
The manager couldn’t hide the horrified look on his face after realizing the woman was the person he rudely shut out the night before. After seeing the look on his face, Linda turned back to the cafe owner.
“You have a great restaurant and such endearing staff. My husband and I are happy to buy the cafe,” she said.
The next day, Linda and her husband went straight to work. They wanted to observe how the cafe operated on a daily basis and get to know their new staff members.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
When Linda saw Simon, she bore him some bad news. “Simon, my husband and I have made the decision to demote you as a waiter. We don’t think the way you treated me the other night is any way to treat a customer,” she explained.
Immediately, Simon was given an apron and a tray, and he started working as a waiter. He was humiliated, but he didn’t want to lose his job entirely.
A couple of days later, a poor woman entered the cafe. She sat at a table and ordered a sandwich and hot tea. After she finished her meal, Simon handed her the bill.
“Oh dear,” the old woman said as she looked through her purse. “I must have forgotten my wallet at home. I am so sorry. I can wash the dishes, or clean the restaurant, anything so that I could repay you,” she said.
Simon shook his head. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I will pay for your tab this time around,” he said with a smile.
The woman proceeded to thank Simon, to which he replied: “It’s no problem. People should help each other out. A couple of days ago, the new owner of this restaurant gave me a second chance because she is a kind person. I want to be like her. After all, I believe in karma.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“I think you will become a manager again,” the woman replied. Simon was confused as to how the woman knew about his demotion. At that moment, Linda approached the table.
“This woman here is my friend. I wanted to test you and see whether or not you’ve learned your lesson. I’m happy to know that you’ve passed the test. You can return to your managerial duties effective immediately,” Linda said, giving him a tap on the back.
Simon was delighted. He had never seen such kindness in anybody, and he was grateful that Linda gave him yet another chance to do well at his job.
Since that day, Simon went to work with a smile on his face. He loved his job, and it was all thanks to the boost of confidence the new cafe owners gave him. He would patiently tend to his staff and the customers, and it led the cafe to become even more successful.
What can we learn from this story?
- We should not judge others by their outward appearance. The porter and Simon were quick to judge Linda for how she looked, not knowing she’d end up owning the business they worked in.
- People deserve a second chance. Linda was nice enough to give Simon a second chance, knowing he enjoyed his work.
Share this story with your loved ones. It might inspire them and make their day.
My Husband Gifted Me a Christmas Present That Outraged Me – Next Year, I Plotted a Revenge
Some gifts warm the heart. My husband’s Christmas present? It ignited a fire of rage. I spent the next year plotting the perfect revenge, and when he unwrapped his gift, the look on his face was my real Christmas present.
Have you ever received a gift that made your stomach drop and your blood boil at the same time? I’m not talking about an ugly sweater or a fruit cake nobody wants. I mean the kind of present that makes you question if the person who gave it to you knows you at all. Or worse, if they even care. What my husband Murphy did one Christmas had me planning revenge for an entire year.
Presents under a Christmas tree | Source: Unsplash
Money was always tight in our household.
Murphy worked at the metal fabrication plant downtown, pulling double shifts that left his hands calloused and his back aching. He’d come home smelling of metal shavings and machine oil, proud of providing for our family but too tired to notice anything else.
Meanwhile, I cobbled together an income tutoring kids in math and watching the neighbors’ children, which wasn’t much but helped keep food on the table and the lights on. Between mortgage payments and growing teenagers, we pinched every penny until it screamed.
A woman putting a coin in a piggy bank | Source: Pexels
We had a mutual agreement about Christmas: we’d scrape together enough for presents for our girls and our parents, but nothing for each other. It worked for 16 years of our marriage until Murphy decided to change the rules without warning me first.
“Susan! Come here, I got something for you!” Murphy’s voice boomed through our small house one evening, ten days before Christmas.
The excitement in his voice made me drop the math worksheet I was grading for little Tommy, who still couldn’t quite grasp long division.
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
I wiped my hands on my apron and walked into the living room.
There he stood, grinning like a kid who’d just found the cookie jar, with a massive box wrapped in sparkly paper that must have cost at least $5 a roll.
“What’s this about?” I asked, my heart racing.
The box was huge, nearly reaching my waist, and wrapped with unusual care for a man who typically considered tape and newspaper to be good enough for any package.
A huge gift box near a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney
“It’s your Christmas present! I know we don’t do this usually, but I wanted to do something special this year. Something big!”
“Murphy, we can’t afford—”
“Just wait till Christmas Eve, Sus! You’re gonna love it! I promise you’ve never gotten anything like this before.”
I had no idea how right he was.
A woman sitting on the couch and looking up | Source: Midjourney
Our daughters, Mia and Emma, peeked around the corner with their art supplies, giggling like they used to when they were little, not the teenagers they’d become.
“Dad’s been so secretive about it,” Mia whispered. “He wouldn’t even let us help wrap it!”
“He spent forever in the garage getting it ready, Mom!” Emma added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
That should have been my first warning sign.
Two cheerful teenage girls smiling | Source: Pexels
For the next ten days, that box sat under our Christmas tree, taunting me. Every time I walked past it, I’d try to guess what could be inside.
Maybe Murphy had saved up all year for something special. Maybe he’d noticed me eyeing that velvety quilt in the store window, or remembered me mentioning how much I missed having a nice television set since ours broke last spring.
Sometimes I’d catch him staring at the box with this proud little smile, like he’d solved all the world’s problems with whatever was inside.
A man looking at something | Source: Midjourney
Christmas Eve arrived with a flurry of activity. Our girls were sprawled on the floor by the tree, while Murphy’s parents settled onto our worn couch that had seen better days.
His mother, Eleanor, kept shooting me knowing looks, while his father, Frank, nursed his usual cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey.
The room smelled of cinnamon and pine, thanks to the three cookie-scented candles I’d splurged on at the dollar store. Christmas carols played softly on our old radio. And outside, the neighbors’ lighting display cast multicolored shadows through our windows as I set a tray of brownies on the table.
A woman holding a wooden tray of brownies | Source: Pexels
“Open it, Mom!” Emma squealed. “It’s the biggest present under the tree! Even bigger than the one Dad got for Grandma!”
Murphy nodded encouragingly, his work boots tapping against the carpet in an excited rhythm. “Go ahead, Sus. Show everyone what Santa brought you.”
My fingers trembled as I unwrapped the paper, trying to savor the moment. The girls leaned forward, and I lifted the lid.
My heart stopped.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“A vacuum cleaner?” I whispered, staring at the box with its cheerful product photos showing all its “amazing features.”
“Top of the line!” Murphy beamed. “I already tested it in the garage… works like a dream! Gets all the metal shavings right up! Even does the corners!”
The girls exchanged glances before bursting into giggles. Eleanor pressed her lips together so hard they nearly disappeared, while Frank suddenly became very interested in the contents of his coffee mug, probably wishing he’d added more whiskey.
A vacuum cleaner on the floor | Source: Pexels
“Oh, and when you’re done with it in here,” Murphy added, still grinning like he’d just given me the crown jewels, “make sure to put it back in the garage. That’s where it’ll live most of the time. The suction on this baby is perfect for my workspace! No more metal dust anywhere!”
I fled to our bedroom, but Murphy followed, his heavy footsteps echoing behind me like thunder. I burst into tears as soon as he closed the door, the sound of Christmas carols mocking me from downstairs.
“A vacuum cleaner? Seriously? Your first Christmas gift to me in 16 years is a VACUUM CLEANER?”
A shocked woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney
“What’s wrong with that? It’s practical. Do you know how much these things cost? It’s top of the line!”
“Practical? You bought yourself a garage vacuum and wrapped it up as my Christmas present! You might as well have gift-wrapped a mop and bucket!”
“Don’t be dramatic, Susan. It’s for the whole family—”
“A $5 bracelet would have meant more! Just something that showed you thought of me as your wife and NOT your MAID! Something that said ‘I love you,’ not ‘Here’s another way to clean up after everyone!’”
An angry man frowning | Source: Midjourney
His face darkened, jaw clenching like it did when the bills came due.
“You’re acting like a spoiled princess. Remember where you came from. Your folks are farmers! Do they even know what a vacuum cleaner is?! At least I’m thinking about upgrading our home!”
“Get out!” I roared. “GET. OUT.”
“Fine,” he snapped, yanking the door open. “You’re being ridiculous. It’s a good gift! Most wives would be grateful! Because presents are something a family could use, not what you would want.”
An angry woman holding her head | Source: Pexels
That night, I slept on the couch, wrapped in rage and heartache. Through the thin walls, I could hear Murphy telling his parents I was being “selfish” about the whole thing.
Eleanor’s murmured response was too quiet to make out, but Frank’s grunt of disapproval came through clearly.
As I lay there in the dark, watching the neighbors’ Christmas lights dance across our ceiling, a plan began to form in my head. Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, or in this case, wrapped in glittery paper and waiting an entire year.
Christmas lights shining through a window curtain | Source: Unsplash
I smiled into the darkness, already calculating how much I’d need to save from my tutoring money to make it perfect.
The following Christmas, I invited every relative within driving distance. Aunts, uncles, cousins — anyone who might appreciate a good show.
Murphy grumbled about the expense until he spotted his gift under the tree. It was the biggest box of all, wrapped in paper that cost $10 a roll this time.
“What’s this?” he asked, eyes lighting up like a child’s.
“Just a little something special. You do so much for us, honey. I wanted this Christmas to be MEMORABLE!”
A huge gift box against the backdrop of a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney
“Mom went shopping all by herself,” Mia chimed in. “She wouldn’t even tell us what it is! But she looked so happy when she came home.”
“Cost a pretty penny too,” I added, watching Murphy’s eyes grow wider.
He spent the next few days shaking the box when he thought no one was looking, like a kid trying to guess what Santa brought.
Christmas Eve arrived again. Our living room was packed with family, all eyes on Murphy as he approached his present.
Guests in a room | Source: Pexels
Aunt Martha perched on the armrest of the couch, while Uncle Bill and his three kids crowded around the fireplace.
Even cousin Pete, who never came to family gatherings, had shown up after I hinted there would be some “holiday entertainment.”
“Open it, Dad!” Emma urged, her phone ready to record the moment. “The suspense is killing everyone!”
A teenage girl smiling | Source: Pexels
The gift wrapper fell away. Murphy’s face went from excitement to confusion to HORROR as he stared at the industrial-sized case of toilet paper in the box.
It was premium four-ply, with “extra soft comfort” plastered across the box in cheerful letters, and “perfect for home AND workshop use!” printed in bold red.
“What is this?” he sputtered, “TOILET PAPER??”
A pile of toilet paper | Source: Unsplash
I stood up, channeling my best game show host voice.
“It’s premium four-ply toilet paper! Because Christmas isn’t about what we want, it’s about what the family needs. Right, honey? And this will be perfect for the bathroom AND your garage! I even got the industrial size, since you love practical gifts so much!”
Our daughters doubled over laughing. Aunt Martha choked on her eggnog. Uncle Bill slapped his knee so hard it echoed, while his kids collapsed in fits of giggles. Cousin Pete actually fell off his chair.
A young man sitting on a chair and laughing | Source: Pexels
“Who gives their husband toilet paper for Christmas?” Murphy’s face turned scarlet as he looked around the room full of amused relatives.
I smiled angelically. “Who gives their wife a vacuum cleaner?”
He stormed upstairs, muttering under his breath, while the family erupted in laughter and approval. Even Eleanor gave me a subtle high-five when no one was looking.
A furious man yelling | Source: Midjourney
“Well played, Susan,” Frank chuckled, raising his coffee mug in salute. “Well played indeed. Maybe next year he’ll think twice about ‘practical’ gifts.”
That was five years ago. Murphy hasn’t mentioned Christmas presents since, and “selfish” has mysteriously disappeared from his vocabulary.
But just in case he ever gets another bright idea about “practical” gifts, I keep a special shelf in the closet, ready for next year’s wrapping paper. Sometimes the best revenge isn’t served cold, it’s served with a bow on top, and maybe some premium four-ply toilet paper to wrap it in.
A roll of toilet paper wrapped in golden satin ribbon | Source: Midjourney
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.
Leave a Reply