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
My Husband Brought Home a Pregnant Lover and Told Me to Move to My Mom’s – My Revenge Was Harsh
Eight years of marriage shattered in one quick breath when my husband Mike brought home his pregnant sidekick and KICKED ME OUT of the house. I packed alright, but what I unpacked was a revenge plot so brilliant and karmic!
Portrait of a sad young woman | Source: Midjourney
It was a Tuesday evening when my life decided to go off the rails. I walked into our living room, tired from a long day at work, only to find a heavily pregnant woman sitting on our couch, eating chips.
At first, I thought maybe I’d accidentally wandered into the wrong house.
But no, there was our ugly floral wallpaper that Mike insisted on keeping, and there was Mike, looking like he’d just swallowed a porcupine.
A pregnant woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Michelle,” he said, his voice as casual as if he was asking me to pass the salt. “We need to talk.”
I stood there, frozen, my brain trying to compute the scene before me. The pregnant woman smiled awkwardly, her hand on her belly, looking like she was auditioning for a soap opera.
“This is Jessica,” Mike continued, gesturing to the human incubator on our couch. “She’s pregnant. With my child. It… it just happened. And we’ve decided to be together.”
A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
I waited for the punchline. Surely, this was some elaborate prank for a new reality TV show. Maybe I’d win a car if I didn’t freak out?
But Mike’s face remained serious, and Jessica kept smiling that infuriating smile.
“Mike,” I said slowly, “what do you mean by ‘it just happened’? Did you trip and fall into her—?”
Mike had the audacity to look offended. “Enough, Michelle! This is serious. I think it’s best if you move out. You can go stay with your mom. Jess and I’ll take over the house.”
A serious-looking man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Nope, still not a dream.
I was half-expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me I’d been Punk’d. But alas, no Ashton. Just my cheating husband and his very pregnant sidekick.
“Alright,” I calmly said. “I’ll pack my things and leave.”
Mike looked relieved, probably thinking he’d gotten off easy. Jessica’s smile grew wider, like she’d just won the lottery. Little did they know, the lottery was about to hit them back, and hit them hard.
A heartbroken woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney
I went upstairs, packed a suitcase with some essentials, and left without another word.
As I drove to my mom’s house, the shock wore off, and rage took its place. But this wasn’t just any rage. This was the kind of rage that makes you want to do something spectacularly stupid and incredibly satisfying.
The next day, I set my plan in motion.
First stop: the bank. I marched in there like a woman on a mission, which I was. I froze our joint account faster than you can say “cheating jerk.”
The look on the bank manager’s face when I explained why was priceless. I’m pretty sure he was mentally taking notes for his next novel.
A woman outside a bank | Source: Midjourney
Next, I visited a locksmith.
I remembered overhearing Mike tell Jessica they’d be gone for three days, giving me plenty of time to execute my master plan. It was like the universe was conspiring in my favor, and who was I to argue with destiny?
My next stop: my house. The same cozy house Mike and I once lived together, planning a future that was now a total trainwreck.
The puzzled locksmith probably thought I was crazy, cackling as I had him change all the locks on the house. I may have gone a bit overboard and asked for the most complicated, high-tech locks available. Hey, if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. And big.
A locksmith fixing a door lock | Source: Midjourney
Then came the movers.
I gave them the spare keys and scheduled them to pack up everything I owned, which was basically everything in the house. I even took the toilet paper. Let’s see how Mike and Jessica enjoy using leaves!
But the piece de resistance? Oh, that was yet to come. I had a brilliant idea that would make this revenge not just sweet, but long-lasting.
Toilet paper rolls in a basket | Source: Midjourney
I sent out party invitations. Lots of them. To Mike’s family, our friends, his coworkers, even that nosy neighbor who always complained about our late dog.
The invitation read: “Come celebrate Mike’s new life! Surprise party at our house, tomorrow at 7 p.m.!”
A party invitation | Source: Midjourney
Then, I commissioned a billboard. Yes, a billboard. A huge one. It was delivered and set up on our front lawn, impossible to miss.
In giant, bold letters, it proclaimed: “Congratulations on Dumping Me for Your Pregnant Mistress, Mike! Hope the Baby Doesn’t Inherit Your Infidelity!”
I stepped back to admire my handiwork, feeling like a mischievous fairy godmother who’d just granted the world’s most ironic wish. With a satisfied smirk and a dramatic hair flip, I sashayed away from the scene, eagerly anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold.
A billboard outside a house | Source: Midjourney
The next evening, right on cue, my phone rang. It was Mike, and he sounded like he was having an aneurysm.
“Michelle!” he screeched, his voice hitting octaves I didn’t know he could reach. “What the hell is going on? Why are there people at our house? And what’s with this insane billboard?”
“Oh, that?” I said, trying to sound innocent. “Just a little housewarming party for you and Jessica. Don’t you like the decorations?”
“Decorations? It’s a freaking circus out here! And why can’t I get into the house?”
A startled man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, honey, you told me to move out, remember? You never said anything about you staying there. I just remembered that the house is solely under my name. So, I changed the locks. Oopsie!”
There was a long silence on the other end. I could almost hear the gears in his tiny brain trying to process what was happening.
“Where are we supposed to go?” he finally sputtered.
“Gee, I don’t know, Mike. Maybe Jessica’s mom would love to have you? I hear pregnancy hormones and in-laws mix really well.”
A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I hung up, feeling lighter than I had in years. But wait, there was more!
In the days that followed, I had the utilities cut off, canceled the cable, and made sure all our joint assets were transferred into my name. I listed the house for sale, making sure to mention in the listing that it came with a “bonus front lawn art installation.”
I had Mike served with divorce papers at work. I specifically requested the mailman to dress up as a pregnant woman. Just for funsies.
But the universe wasn’t done with Mike yet. Oh no, it had saved the best for last.
A man gaping in shock as he holds some papers | Source: Midjourney
A week later, I got a call from Jessica. Yes, that Jessica. She was crying so hard I could barely understand her.
“Michelle,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I mean, Mike told me you two were separated. And now… now he’s broke and homeless, and I’m pregnant, and I don’t know what to do!”
I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
“Well, Jessica,” I said, trying to keep the glee out of my voice, “I hear the circus is always looking for new acts. Maybe you two could start a juggling duo? You juggle the baby, he juggles his lies?”
She didn’t appreciate my humor. Tsk! Tsk!
Silhouette of a pregnant woman holding a smartphone | Source: Midjourney
As it turns out, when Jessica found out that Mike was now homeless, broke, and the laughingstock of the town, she decided that maybe being with a guy who had no money, no house, and no future wasn’t such a great idea after all.
She dumped him faster than you can say “Karma’s a b****!”
Last I heard, Mike was living in a tiny apartment, trying to scrape together enough money to pay bills and feed his hungry belly. His family had cut him off, disgusted by his behavior.
They even sent me a fruit basket and a sorry card. I ate the fruits while soaking in my new jacuzzi.
As for me? Well, the house sold for a nice profit. I moved to a beautiful new place, started my own business, and adopted a cat. I named him Karma.
A woman with her pet cat | Source: Midjourney
So yeah, my revenge might have been a bit over the top. But let’s be real, bringing home a pregnant mistress and trying to kick me out of my own house? That’s not just crossing a line, that’s pole-vaulting over it and then setting the pole on fire.
In the end, I learned a valuable lesson: When life gives you lemons, don’t just make lemonade. Squeeze those lemons into the eyes of those who wronged you, and then sit back and watch them stumble around blindly. It’s much more satisfying.
And remember, folks: cheaters never prosper, but the cheated-on with a good sense of humor and a flair for the dramatic? Oh, we do just fine!
A cheerful woman smiling | 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.
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