As a waitress, I’ve heard countless mispronunciations of our international menu. But when I overheard Andrew “correcting” his girlfriend Amanda’s flawless Italian, German, and Mandarin, I just had to say something.
The Friday night rush at Flavors of the World restaurant always kept me on my toes. As a waitress, I loved the hustle and bustle, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of conversation.
But what I enjoyed most was listening to the diverse languages spoken by our patrons as they ordered from our international menu.
A waitress serving drinks at a restaurant | Source: Pexels
One couple in particular caught my attention: Amanda and Andrew. They were regulars, who came in every Friday without fail.
Amanda had her bright eyes and a gentle demeanor. She always impressed me with her linguistic abilities.
She’d order dishes in their native tongues, and her pronunciation was spot-on whether it was Mandarin, Spanish, Italian, or German.
“Buonasera [Good evening],” Amanda greeted me one evening. “Potrei avere gli gnocchi alla sorrentina, per favore [could I have the gnocchi alla sorrentina, please]?”
A plate of gnocchi | Source: Pexels
I smiled, appreciating her flawless Italian. “Certamente, signora. Ottima scelta [Certainly, ma’am. Excellent choice]!”
Andrew, on the other hand, was a different story. Tall and conventionally handsome, he carried himself with an air of superiority that set my teeth on edge.
Every time Amanda spoke, he’d interrupt, “correcting” her pronunciations with his own butchered versions.
A woman looking sad at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“It’s not ‘nyocky,’” he’d say, rolling his eyes. “It’s ‘guh-nocky.’ Honestly, Amanda, you sound ridiculous.”
I’d bite my tongue, not wanting to be rude and possibly reduce my tip.
Amanda would always shrink a little at his words. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I thought –”
“No, you didn’t think,” he’d cut her off. “Just order like a normal person next time, okay?”
An angry looking man at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
This pattern repeated week after week. Amanda would order beautifully in whatever language the dish originated from, and Andrew would belittle her efforts.
“Ich hätte gerne das Wiener Schnitzel, bitte [I would like the Wiener Schnitzel, please],” Amanda said one night in impeccable German.
“It’s ‘weiner snitchel,’ Amanda,” Andrew scoffed, bothering the name of the typical Austrian dish. “Stop trying to sound fancy.”
A plate of Wiener Schnitzel | Source: Pexels
I watched as Amanda’s confidence dwindled with each passing week, and it broke my heart to see such talent and passion being stifled.
This particular Friday was different for some reason.
Amanda’s usual smile was strained as she and Andrew walked in. But I quickly realized why.
Behind them trailed an older couple I hadn’t seen before, but the family resemblance was clear. Andrew’s parents.
An older couple walking into a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I approached their table with a notepad in hand. “Good evening, folks. What can I get you tonight?”
Amanda glanced at the menu, then at Andrew, before speaking softly. “I’ll have the pho ga, please.”
“It’s ‘foe guh,’ Amanda. God, do you have to be so pretentious all the time?”
Amanda’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, I just –”
An upset woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t mind her,” Andrew cut in, addressing his parents. “She thinks she’s so smart, always showing off.”
His mother tutted sympathetically. “Oh, sweetie,” she said to Amanda, “are you always such a bragger? Can’t you speak normally?”
I gripped my pen tighter and felt my knuckles whitening. Amanda looked like she wanted to disappear.
Andrew leaned into her ear but whispered loud enough for me to hear. “Stop shaming me. Talk like a normal person.”
A man at a restaurant leaning close to a woman | Source: Midjourney
When tears welled in Amanda’s eyes, I knew I couldn’t stand by any longer.
“Nín hǎo [Hello],” I said, addressing Andrew in Mandarin. “Qǐng bùyào rúcǐ cūlǔ de duìdài nín de nǚpéngyǒu [Please do not treat your girlfriend so rudely].”
Andrew’s jaw dropped. Amanda’s head snapped up, surprise replacing the hurt in her eyes.
“Xièxiè nǐ [Thank you],” Amanda replied, her Mandarin flowing smoothly. “Zhè duì wǒ yìyì zhòngdà [This means a lot to me].”
A woman at a restaurant looking up and smiling | Source: Midjourney
Andrew and his parents exchanged bewildered glances. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “What are you saying?”
“Oh, I was just asking you not to treat your girlfriend so rudely. And Amanda was thanking me, saying it means a lot to her,” I answered sweetly.
“I don’t believe you!” he accused me. “You’re making that up. You’re insulting us!”
“Son,” his father interjected, “maybe you should –”
An older man looking upset at a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“No!” Andrew slammed his hand on the table. “She’s lying. She has to be. Amanda, what did she say?”
Amanda sat up straighter, and her eyes sparkled. Something had changed. “She’s not lying, Andrew. And neither am I when I pronounce words correctly in other languages.”
“But… but I thought…” Andrew sputtered.
A man confused and surprised at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“You thought wrong,” Amanda said firmly. “I’ve spent years studying languages. Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t make it wrong or shameful.”
“So what, you’re some kind of genius now? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No,” Amanda replied. “I’m just someone who loves languages and has worked hard to learn them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
A notebook and a book with notes on learning Spanish | Source: Pexels
Andrew’s mother chimed in, obviously embarrassed by the scene they were causing. “Sweetie, don’t you think it’s a bit… much? Always showing off like this?”
“It’s not showing off to use the skills you’ve worked hard to acquire” Amanda retorted. “Would you say the same thing to a musician playing an instrument well?”
“Well, I… that’s different.”
“How?” Amanda challenged. “How is it different?”
A woman with a raised eyebrow at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Andrew’s father cleared his throat. “Now, let’s all calm down. I’m sure we can-“
“No, Dad,” Andrew cut in. “I want to hear this. Go on, Amanda. Tell us how smart you are.”
I watched in anticipation as Amanda took a deep breath. “This isn’t about being smart or bragging! It’s about respect. Respect for other cultures, for the effort people put into learning, and for me as a person.”
A smiling waitress | Source: Pexels
“Respect?” Andrew scoffed. “What about respecting me? Do you know how embarrassing it is when you start spouting off in some foreign language?”
“Embarrassing for whom?” Amanda shot back. “For you? Because you can’t understand it? Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, the problem isn’t with me speaking other languages but with your reaction to it?”
The restaurant had grown quiet as other diners watched the scene unfold. Andrew’s mother cleared her throat awkwardly. “Perhaps we should go somewhere else.”
A busy restaurant | Source: Pexels
“I think that’s a good idea,” Amanda agreed and stood. “And I’ll be going home. Alone!” She turned to me. “Thank you for your kindness. Grazie mille. Danke schön. Muchas gracias!”
With that, she walked out and held her head high. I smiled and waited.
Andrew and his parents shuffled out soon after with their tails between their legs.
A restaurant door | Source: Pexels
The following Friday, I was surprised to see Amanda walk in alone. She looked different, somehow lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Table for one?” I asked.
She nodded, smiling. “Yes, please. And I’d love to chat if you have a moment.”
Once I’d seated her and taken her order, I pulled up a chair. “How are you doing?”
A seated woman smiling | Source: Pexels
“Better than I have in a long time,” Amanda admitted. “I broke up with Andrew the day after… well, you know.”
I nodded encouragingly. “That must have been tough.”
“It was, but it was also liberating. I realized I’d been living in fear of his judgment for so long. When I told him it was over, he couldn’t believe it.”
“What did he say?” I asked, curious.
A blonde woman smiling | Source: Pexels
“He said, ‘You’re making a mistake, Amanda. Who’s going to put up with your show-off behavior?’ Can you believe that?” Amanda shook her head. “I told him, ‘Someone who appreciates intelligence and curiosity! Someone unlike you.’”
I grinned. “Good for you! How did that feel?”
“Terrifying and exhilarating all at once,” Amanda laughed. “But you know what? Your intervention made me realize how much I’d been diminishing myself to make him comfortable. I’d forgotten how much joy I found in languages, and in learning about different cultures. I’d let him convince me it was something to be ashamed of.”
A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“I’m glad I could help,” I said. “No one should make you feel small for being passionate about something.”
Amanda’s eyes shone. “Absolutely. And you know what? I’ve decided to apply for a job as a translator. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do but never dared to pursue.”
“That’s fantastic!” I exclaimed. “Where are you applying?”
A blonde woman at a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“There’s an international non-profit organization that works with refugees. They need translators who can speak multiple languages fluently. It’s perfect for me.”
As we continued talking, switching between languages with ease, I marveled at the change in Amanda. She radiated confidence and enthusiasm, and just because I stepped in at last.
When it was time for me to get back to work, Amanda reached out and squeezed my hand. “Thank you again. For everything.”
Hand shake at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I squeezed back. “Anytime and good luck!”
Sometimes, all it takes is one small act of kindness to help someone find their self-confidence again. And in a world full of different languages and cultures, all voices deserve to be heard, loud and clear.
A smiling woman at an office | Source: Midjourney
During an Argument on the Road, My Husband Threw Me Out of the Car 30 Miles from Home
Scarlett’s weekend escape turned into a nightmare when her husband’s jealously got out of hand and she ended up stranded thirty miles from home. She had no idea that karma would provide an unexpected turn of events that would reverse the situation and give her a sense of fairness again. I’m Scarlett. Hi. I recently got back from what was meant to be a fantastic weekend getaway with my husband, Sheldon. Our marriage had lasted for a decade. I get along well with you most of the time.
But tensions do arise occasionally. Things took a bad turn this past weekend. After spending two days in a quaint little town, we were on our way back. The sun was bright and we had been to several beautiful locations. We had pleasure in boat rides, lovely parks, and cozy cafés. It seemed like the ideal diversion from our hectic life. Sheldon was content, and I was relieved to see him unwind once. Everything was great till the very last day. We went to a little eatery for lunch. Sheldon thought our waiter was a little too chatty. He was certainly pleasant enough. He began teasing the waiter about how attentive he was. I dismissed it with a laugh, but Sheldon became upset. What piqued his interest in you so much? We walked to the car and Sheldon inquired. Trying to keep the conversation light, I answered, “I think he was just doing his job.” Sheldon remained silent as we climbed into the vehicle. At first, the drive home was calm. I tried to savor the remaining moments of our journey as I gazed out the window. However, I could sense Sheldon’s resentment building up next to me. They were on the road for almost an hour when Sheldon finally spoke. He spoke in a frigid tone. “I observed your gaze on him.” With a sigh, I had a knot in my gut. “Sheldon, I wasn’t giving him any particular attention.” He tightened his hold on the steering wheel. “If I hadn’t been here, I doubt you would have refrained from flirting!” That remark hurt. I looked up at him. “You can’t really say that? I’d never be unfaithful to you! He snapped back, “Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it.” My heart was racing. “You’re acting absurdly.
He was just going about his work as a waiter. The dispute swiftly became more heated. In minutes, we went from a tight stillness to yelling. Sheldon’s words wounded more than they had before. Even though his envy was unjustified, he wouldn’t let it go.”You have no idea how it feels,” Sheldon said, raising his voice. “Observing you grin at a different man.” “This is unbelievable,” I murmured while shaking my head. Sheldon, you have my affection. You can’t trust me, why? My heart leaped as he abruptly stopped the automobile. “Leave,” he uttered with clenched teeth. Startled, I questioned, “What?” “Go outside and stroll back home!” he said again, his eyes flaming.
His serious expression conveyed that he wasn’t kidding, even though I couldn’t believe he was serious. With tears hurting my eyes, I opened the door. I slammed the door behind me and muttered, “Fine.” I watched from the side of the road as Sheldon drove off, leaving me by myself. I started to move, a mixture of anguish and rage in me. I was baffled as to how our idyllic weekend had devolved into this nightmare. I had problems with Sheldon, but nothing like this I had ever anticipated.I took to the roadside and began to stroll. The air was growing chilly as the sun descended. Not only was I cold, but I was also shocked by what had transpired. I held out my thumb in the hopes that someone would see me and offer to help. Vehicles zoomed by, their drivers giving me curious or disinterested looks. My thoughts raced, repeatedly playing out the disagreement that I had with Sheldon. He had no idea that I would ever be unfaithful to him. Although his jealousy had never been good, this instance it had taken a toll. After what seemed like an endless amount of time, a car eventually slowed down and stopped over. The man behind the wheel, a kindly-looking middle-aged man, rolled down the window. Need a lift, he enquired. With a wave of relief, I said, “Yes, please.” “Many thanks for that.” Feeling relieved to be off my feet and out of the cold, I got into the car. The chauffeur beamed at me. “My name is Tom,” he introduced himself. “Where are you going?”Home,” I answered. “This is around thirty miles away.” Tom nodded and got behind the wheel. “You know, it was a rough day?” I sighed and added, “You have no idea.” “After a heated argument, my spouse abandoned me by the side of the road.” Tom gave me a pitying glance.
“I regret learning that. Would you like to discuss it? I told Tom about the weekend, the waiter, and the out-of-control dispute as we drove. Speaking with someone and getting everything off my chest felt fantastic. Tom carefully listened, occasionally nodding. When I was done, he responded, “Sounds like your husband has some serious trust issues.” Yes, I replied. “I just don’t get why he doesn’t think I’m trustworthy.” For a while, we drove in quiet as I glanced out the window, thinking back on all that had transpired.
Sheldon was the love of my life, but his jealousy was breaking us. If he didn’t think I was trustworthy, how could we go forward? Abruptly, I noticed a recognizable vehicle off to the side of the road. A beat skipped in my heart. Behind the car, which belonged to Sheldon, were flashing police lights. “Tom, that’s my husband’s car,” I said. Could you please stop? Tom gave a nod, reduced his speed, and parked behind the squad car. Stepping out, I made my way over to Sheldon, who was chatting with a policeman. When he saw me, he appeared taken aback and slightly ashamed. “What’s happening?” I walked up and asked. The policeman turned to face me. “Ma’am, is this your husband?” Yes, I answered. “What took place?” The officer said, “He was pulled over for speeding and reckless driving.” “We may have to suspend his license and tow his car because this is his third offense.” Sheldon turned to face me, a mixture of desperation and rage. “Please, Scarlett, could you assist me?” I inhaled deeply, attempting to control my feelings. “Officer, may I take the car home?” I asked. My license is still in effect. The officer gave me a long look before nodding. “All right. We won’t need to tow it if you drive. He is still receiving a ticket, though. Taking the keys from Sheldon, I felt vindicated and empowered.
I was the one saving him now that this was his disaster. Upon taking the wheel, I couldn’t help but experience a wave of fulfillment. Sheldon sat dejectedly on the side of the road. He murmured, “Thank you,” as I turned on the ignition. I remained silent. Rather, I concentrated on the path ahead, experiencing a sense of both relief and accomplishment. Now I was in charge. Sheldon had to realize there were repercussions for what he did. I had a strange sense of finality as I drove away, leaving Sheldon to deal with the police. While it wasn’t the solution to our issues, this was a start in the right direction for me to regain my power and independence. I would be there for Sheldon as he faced his own problems, but only if he could learn to trust me. I was happy to drive home for the time being, knowing that karma had truly had the last laugh.
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