Frank had always prided himself on his sneaky tactics to get freebies, but his luck ran out at a high-end restaurant. What began as a simple meal turned into a public spectacle when karma finally caught up with him, teaching him a lesson he never saw coming.
My father-in-law, Frank, has always been one of those people who never miss an opportunity to scam others for their own benefit.
I’ve witnessed him do that multiple times, but I never thought I’d see the day when his tricks would backfire so spectacularly, leaving him red-faced and scrambling for an exit.
A close-up shot of an older man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I’ve known Frank for about nine years now. I first met him when Ethan and I started dating, and Ethan introduced us over dinner at a restaurant. That was the first time I saw Frank trying to scam a restaurant.
The waiters served our food, and we began eating. I ordered pasta, Ethan got a sandwich, and Frank ordered a bowl of rice with sesame chicken.
A bowl of sesame chicken with rice | Source: Pexels
“The chicken is so delicious!” Frank said, enjoying his meal.
“Yeah, even this sandwich tastes great,” Ethan added.
I thought Frank was just appreciating the restaurant’s food and service. But no. Frank had something else in mind, and what he did next caught me completely off guard.
“Let me show you how to get more of the same meal for free!” he said before calling a waiter over to our table.
An older man in a restaurant, smiling | Source: Midjourney
“How can I help you, sir?” the waiter asked politely.
“This chicken tastes awful!” Frank said angrily, shaking his head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re serving such tasteless meals. The flavor is bland, and it’s not even properly cooked.”
“I’m so sorry, sir,” the waiter apologized. “I’ll get a replacement right away.”
“Hurry up!” Frank snapped. “I don’t have time to waste here. You better return with something that’s properly cooked!”
A waiter in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The waiter looked panicked, apologizing as if he was at fault. He took away the half-eaten meal that Frank pretended to dislike, promising to return in five minutes.
Once the waiter left, Frank flashed us an evil smile like he had pulled off something impressive.
At that point, I wanted to ask Frank why he lied to get another meal for free. It wasn’t like he didn’t have money, or he was dying of hunger.
A woman looking straight ahead while having dinner with her family | Source: Midjourney
What he did was so cheap, but I believed I was not in a position to make him realize how wrong he was.
Later that night, I asked Ethan why his father did that.
“He’s always been like this,” Ethan sighed. “He thinks it’s funny and he never listens when we tell him it’s wrong. We’ve tried a million times, trust me.”
“But didn’t you see how hurt that waiter was? He really thought your dad didn’t like the food,” I protested. “This is so wrong, Ethan. So unfair.”
A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney
Ethan told me to let it go, and since we were just starting our relationship, I figured it wasn’t worth arguing over.
I could’ve pressed Ethan to understand how wrong Frank’s actions were, but I didn’t want something so minor to strain our relationship.
However, looking back, I wish I had told Ethan to put an end to his dad’s habit.
An older man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The following year, Ethan and I tied the knot, and since then, I’ve been a witness to how cheap Frank is. I’ve watched in horror as he pulled stunts to get free food, free services in hotels, and free ANYTHING, ANYWHERE!
A man shaking hands with a woman at work | Source: Pexels
During the first year of our marriage, I tried explaining to Ethan how wrong his father’s behavior was, but it led to a big argument. Ethan kept saying he had no control over Frank, while I insisted he at least talk to his dad about it.
That night, I decided to stop meddling in Frank’s business because it was useless. Little did I know, karma was about to step in and teach Frank a lesson he’d never forget.
It all started when Frank called Ethan last weekend.
A man talking to his father on the phone | Source: Pexels
“There’s a new restaurant near my workplace,” he said. “I was wondering if you and Bella could join me. I’ve heard the food’s quite expensive so I just wanna see if it’s worth the money.”
“Sure, Dad,” Ethan replied. “We’ll be there.”
Two days later, we found ourselves in the restaurant with Frank. It was one of those fancy places where the plates are tiny, the prices are outrageous, and you need a reservation just to get in.
A fancy restaurant | Source: Pexels
“This place looks nice,” I said as I skimmed through the menu. “But wow, it’s pricey.”
“Yeah, it’s super expensive,” Ethan said. “I think I’ll stick with a simple pasta.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “White sauce pasta for me. What about you, Frank?”
Frank was busy scanning the menu, his finger trailing down to the most expensive item.
“I’ll have the lobster,” he grinned.
“A lobster? Really Dad?” Ethan asked. “You’ve never ordered one before.”
A man sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“I know you’d say this,” Frank replied. “But it’s nice to try new things, isn’t it?”
“You’re right, Dad,” Ethan said before calling the waiter.
We placed our orders, but I could tell Frank was gearing up for another one of his stunts.
Soon, our food arrived, and we began eating. However, halfway through the dinner, I noticed Frank staring at his lobster. I couldn’t understand what was happening until he plucked a hair from my head and placed it on his dish.
Yep, Frank had the nerve to do that. I was too stunned to say a word.
An angry woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Then he called the waiter over, feigning disgust.
“There’s a hair in my food,” Frank exclaimed, pushing his seat away from the table as if the hair would fly over to him. “This is unacceptable! I shouldn’t have to pay for this filth!”
What the heck? I thought. How can he even think of doing that?
I was mortified, while Ethan looked like he was about to explode with anger.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” the waiter said. “I’ll let the manager know.”
That’s when karma made its move.
A waiter in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The manager approached our table a few seconds later.
“We’re so sorry for the inconvenience, sir,” he apologized.
I think he was about to offer a complimentary meal when another waiter came over to our table and whispered something in the manager’s ear.
That’s when the manager’s expression changed from apologetic to stone-cold serious. He took a deep breath and said, “Sir, I need to ask you to leave.”
“What? Why should I leave?” Frank protested. “I found hair in my food and you’re kicking me out? Is this how you treat your customers?”
An angry older man | Source: Midjourney
“Sir, I’m asking you to leave because we believe you put the hair in the dish yourself,” the manager said calmly.
I can never forget the look on Frank’s face. Shocked, horrified, and caught off guard, he still tried to argue.
“How dare you accuse me of that!” he yelled at the manager. “I’ll have your job for this!”
By now, the whole restaurant was watching.
People in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“Sir,” the manager began, “one of our staff members recognized you from another restaurant where you pulled the same stunt. We take food safety seriously here and won’t tolerate attempts to defame our business. Please leave, or we will involve the authorities.”
At that point, people around us started whispering among themselves, and some of them were even laughing. Meanwhile, Ethan and I looked at each other, wishing we hadn’t agreed to this dinner.
But it didn’t end there.
A man sitting with his wife in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Frank was at a loss for words and knew he couldn’t do anything to prove the manager wrong. So, he stood up and picked up his coat, preparing to leave.
“And one more thing, sir,” the manager said. “We’re sharing your photo and details with several other high-end restaurants in the area. You’ll no longer be welcome at any of them.”
Frank’s face turned pale as he realized what the manager just said.
An older man in a restaurant, looking shocked | Source: Midjourney
What bothered him more was that the entire restaurant heard him and many of them were laughing at him. At that point, he understood he could no longer pull his cheap stunts to claim free food.
Karma had defeated him.
Frank stormed out of the restaurant without saying another word, while Ethan and I sat there in silence. Once the shock wore off, I couldn’t help but laugh at what just happened.
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
“I never thought I’d see the day!” I said, still laughing. “Frank finally got a taste of his own medicine, and it wasn’t free.”
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe he’ll finally realize that cheating his way through life always has a cost.”
That night, I finally understood how karma works. I couldn’t help but think that sometimes, karma is just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And that moment might be right when you’re about to dig into an overpriced lobster.
Do you agree?
A lobster served in a dish | Source: Pexels
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: My wedding day took a bizarre turn when our videographer pulled me aside with shocking footage. What I saw next would test my new marriage, expose a family’s dark secrets, and leave me questioning everything I thought I knew about love and trust.
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
My Son Told Me He Bought Me a Cottage in the Countryside – But When He Took Me There, I Went Pale
My son, Michael, surprised me with a cottage in the countryside, but when we got there, I realized it was all a trick. After a while, I discovered the real reason why he did this, and I still can’t forgive him. What would you do?
Hello! My name is Richard, and I’m 68 years old. I never thought I’d be asking strangers for advice, but here I am. I need some outside perspective on this.
For some background: I’ve been a single dad for most of my adult life. My wife, Emma, passed away from cancer when our son, Michael (currently 35 years old), was just ten years old.
It was a difficult time for both of us, but we managed to pull through together.
Since then, it’s been just the two of us against the world. I did my best to be both mother and father to him, working hard to give him every opportunity I could.
Growing up, Michael was a good kid. He had his moments of rebellion, sure, but overall, he was kind, hardworking, and seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.
He did well in school, went to college on a partial scholarship, and landed a good job in finance after graduation.
I’ve always been immensely proud of him, watching him grow into what I thought was a successful adult.
We remained close even after he moved out, talking on the phone regularly and having dinner together at least once a week.
That’s why what happened over a year ago came as such a shock.
It was a Tuesday evening when Michael came to my house, brimming with excitement. “Dad,” he said, “I’ve got amazing news! I bought you a cottage in the countryside!”
“A cottage? Michael, what are you talking about?“
“It’s perfect, Dad. It’s peaceful, serene, and just what you need. You’re going to love it!”
I was taken aback. Move to a cottage far from here? That seemed like too much. “Michael, you didn’t have to do that. I’m perfectly happy here.”
But he insisted! “No, Dad, you deserve it. The house you’re in now is TOO BIG FOR YOU ALONE. It’s time for a change. Trust me, this is going to be great for you.”
I have to admit, I was skeptical. The house I was living in had been our family home for over 30 years. It was where Michael grew up, where Emma and I had built our life together.
But my son seemed so excited, so sure that this was the right move. And I trusted him completely. After all, we’d always been honest with each other.
So, against my better judgment, I agreed to move and sell my house.
The next few days, I was packing and preparing to leave, while Michael handled most of the details. He assured me that everything was taken care of.
He was being so helpful that I pushed aside my lingering doubts.
Finally, the day came for us to drive to my new home. As we got in the car, Michael was chatting away about all the amenities this new place had.
But as we drove further and further from the city, I started feeling uneasy. The scenery became more and more desolate. It wasn’t woodsy or hillside.
Our familiar neighbor and the bustling streets of the city were gone and all that was left were empty, ugly fields, and even an abandoned farm.
The cottages nearby, which Michael knew I had admired and considered buying when his mother was alive, were cozy, homey places, surrounded by nature. This was the opposite.
“Michael,” I wondered, “are you sure we’re going the right way? This doesn’t look like cottage country to me.”
He assured me we were on the right track, but I noticed he wouldn’t quite meet my eyes.
After about another hour of driving, we turned onto a long, winding driveway. At the end of it stood a large, boring building.
My heart sank as I read the sign: “Sunset Haven.”
This wasn’t a cottage. It was a nursing home.
I turned to Michael, trying to quell my emotions. “What is this? What’s going on?”
“Dad,” he said, but couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I said it was a cottage, but… this is better for you. You’ll be taken care of here.”
“Taken care of? I don’t need to be taken care of! I’m perfectly capable of living on my own. Why would you lie to me?“
“Dad, please.” Michael finally turned to me, and his eyes were pleading. “You’ve been forgetting things lately. I’m worried about you living alone. This place has great facilities, and there will always be someone around if you need help.”
“Forgetting things? Everyone forgets things sometimes!” I yelled, and angry tears fell from my eyes. “This isn’t right, Michael. Take me home right now.”
Michael shook his head and dropped the real bombshell of the day. “I can’t do that, Dad. I’ve… I’ve already sold the house.”
I felt like the ground had disappeared from under me. I knew I had agreed to sell, but I had all the time in the world. I wanted to meet the new owners, pick a nice family, and hell, tell them exactly how to care for the old Elm tree in the yard.
How could he have sold it without my knowledge or consent?
I demanded answers, but Michael was evasive. He mentioned something about having power of attorney and doing what was best for me.
I shut down after that, and the next few hours were a blur.
Somehow, I ended up checked into Sunset Haven and was led to a small room with a narrow bed and a window overlooking a parking lot.
The walls were a sickly shade of beige, and the air smelled of disinfectant and old people.
My old home retained the scent of my wife’s cinnamon coffee cake, and I never changed her decor choices. My only upgrades were new appliances when needed, and Michael had given me an Alexa.
But now, this sad, clinical place was my new home.
I couldn’t do anything about it, either. I thought about Michael’s words while I spent the next few days in shock and anger. Was I so far gone that I forgot everything?
Was this the right thing? Had I caused Michael harm? Had I been diagnosed with dementia or something?
I couldn’t imagine any of that, but Michael’s parting look of guilt and concern left me dubious.
The staff at Sunset Haven were kind enough, and they tried to engage me in activities to make me feel welcome. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
It was during an afternoon of more stewing in my feelings that I overheard a conversation that made everything even worse.
I was sitting in the common room, pretending to read a magazine, when I heard two nurses talking in hushed tones nearby.
“Poor Mr. Johnson,” one of them said. “Did you hear about his son?”
“No, what happened?”
“Apparently, he had some pretty big gambling debts. That’s why he sold his dad’s house and put him in here.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Gambling debts? Was that the real reason behind all of this? Had my son sold me out, quite literally, to cover his own mistakes?
I was even more devastated.
The son I’d raised, the boy I thought I knew better than anyone, had discarded me for selfish reasons.
I thought back to all the times I’d helped him out of tight spots, all the sacrifices I’d made to give him a good life.
Luckily, fate intervened in the form of an old friend. Jack, a lawyer I’d known for years, came to Sunset Haven to visit his sister and was shocked to find me there.
When I told him what happened, he was outraged. He offered to look into the legality of what Michael had done.
It turned out that the sale of my house had been rushed, with several legal corners cut in the process. With Jack’s help, I was able to contest the sale.
After a long battle that ended with Michael having to return the money he took from the buyers and pay all the legal fees, I finally got my home back and moved out of Sunset Haven.
Now, here’s where I need advice.
My son has been trying to apologize. He showed up at my house last week, and I hardly recognized him. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept or eaten properly in weeks.
When I let him in, he broke down.
He told me how he’d started gambling to cope with stress at work, how things had spiraled out of control, and how he’d convinced himself that selling my house and putting me in a home was the best solution for everyone.
He swore he’d been getting help for his addiction and was committed to making things right.
“I was wrong, Dad,” he sobbed. “So wrong. Can you ever forgive me?“
Part of me wants to let bygones be bygones. He’s my son, and we only have each other in this world. But another part of me is still so angry and hurt.
How can I trust him again after what he did? He lied to me, manipulated me, and stole my home to cover up his own mistakes.
Even if he’s truly sorry now, how do I know he won’t do something like this again in the future?
What would you do in my place?
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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