Joe believed he did the best thing for his ailing mother when he placed her in a nursing home. His fiancée, Emily, was the one who convinced him it was for the best for everyone if the elderly lady was out of her home. “You did the right thing,” she said with a grin on her face. “Your mom will have a better life in the nursing home…and we can turn her old crafts room into a lovely nursery for our baby.”
However, upon returning from the nursing home, Joe and Emily were shocked to see some people moving the furniture from their house. They rushed to inspect what was going on, still shocked from the sight.
“What the heck is going on over here?” Joe yelled as he exited the car and ran towards the porch. “Hey, who are you…and what are you doing in my house?”
“You must be Joe!” the man replied. “I knew you would come. By the way, this isn’t your house anymore! Your mom sold it to us. Here are the papers…and there’s your stuff.”
Joe was looking in confusion, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing and was unable to move. But Emily acted. She grabbed the paper from the man’s hand and started analyzing the agreement. Her facial expression said it was true. Joe’s mom really sold the house.
“You fool!” she yelled. “Your mother tricked you right under your nose…and you had no clue? Everything is ruined now.”
“Emily…don’t say that. I don’t understand why Mom did this. But we still have each other. We can…”
“There’s no more WE, you loser! Forget about me,” she said as she pulled the ring and threw it on the ground.
Joe ran after her, pleading, “Wait…what about our baby?”
But Emily laughed at his face as she replied, “You’re so stupid! There’s no baby. Now get out of my way.”
“Wha—what do you mean? Emily…Emily? Stop….” Joe called out, but she left the place and left his life.
Heartbroken, Joe stood on the porch and that’s when he noticed a letter under one of the boxes.
It was from his mother.
“Dear Joe,
I’m sorry this happened. I wish I never had to take such drastic steps. But you left me with no other choice. It all started the day you first brought Emily home… the letter started.
Some weeks ago…
The decision to sell the house was made weeks ago, while Joe’s mom, Nora, was resting in her armchair.
Joe entered the place, and there was a woman with him, Emily. “…Joe is so funny…and charming,” Emily chuckled as she sat next to Joe on the couch. “I couldn’t say no when he first asked me on a date to the funfair.”
“It’s been just three weeks…but it feels like we’ve known each other for ages. That’s why I insisted Emily move in with me,” Joe said with visible delight in his eyes.
Her son’s words stunned Nora. She needed time to compose herself as she placed her oxygen mask on her face.
“I’m sorry if this has come as a shock, Mom,” Joe rubbed Nora’s shoulder. “Things might seem sudden…but trust me…Emily is the one for me. We’re soulmates!”
Nora turned to Emily, took her hand, and said, “Emily, darling, if you don’t mind, can you please make me some tea, dear? The warmth soothes my throat. The kitchen is that way…”
As Emily left the room to make some tea, Joe looked at his mother and whispered, “Isn’t she the best, Mom?”
“She seems like a lovely girl. But don’t you think you’re taking things a bit fast, Joey?”
“Mom, I understand your concerns. I didn’t want to tell you everything because of your health. But you deserve to know…I’m planning to propose to Emily this weekend.”
As expected, Nora believed that was way too soon since Joe knew Emily only for a few weeks.
“Mom, relax. You’re the one who taught me to fight for love. That’s what you and Dad did when you eloped, right?”
“But, Joey, that and this are entirely different.”
“Mom, I love Emily. I can’t live without her. Please trust me… she will be a great wife and a wonderful daughter-in-law.”
This sudden rushing didn’t give Nora peace.
However, when Emily moved in the following day, things seemed to have fallen into place as she and Nora got along well. The two knitted together, watched documentaries, and chatted.
Nora started to like her soon to be daughter-in-law until one night, when she woke up at midnight to take her pills, she heard Nora talking to someone over the phone and saying, “That old crone and her oxygen machine… she is such a thorn in my way… but Joe is madly hooked on me. So I should be able to get rid of her soon.”
Nora froze. At that moment she wondered what could Emily possibly do to get rid of her, but then Emily continued, “Just a lil sweet talk, and he should agree to stick his mother in a nursing home. Then, I’ll kick him out, and this house will be mine!”
Nora’s initial plan was to tell her son what she had heard, but she knew he was too smitten with his girlfriend to trust her.
Over the course of the next couple of days, Emily acted as though she enjoyed Nora’s company.
One day, however, Joe approached Nora and told her they needed to talk.
“It’s about Emily…” Joe said.
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry things didn’t work out between you two…”
But Joe frowned. “What? Things are great between Emily and me, Mom. I’ve never been happier.
“Actually, Mom…” Joe swallowed hard. “…Emily’s been running her own business while working through the temp agency. She needs help with buying more machinery. But she can’t afford it right now. So I’d like to help her…but there’s only one way to get the money I need.”
“What is it, Joe?” Nora asked dreadfully.
“Mom, you know…your health isn’t improving. I think you need a better place where you’re cared for well…I think it’s time you moved into a nursing home.”
“Mom, it’ll be comfortable there,” said as he squeezed his mom’s hand. “…and if you agree to sell your house, I can put that money in Emily’s business. I promise to repurchase this property as soon as we see a return on the investment.”
Feeling betrayed, Nora said with sadness in her voice, “I don’t want to leave…my home.”
“Mom, I’m just trying to look out for you. Please…” Joe pleaded.
Knowing there was not much that she could do at that moment, Nora nodded her head.
“I’ll think about it, Joey. Just give me some time,” she said.
Nora needed time in order to be able to put her plan of revealing Emily’s true face into action.
The following day, Nora’s knitting was interrupted by the front door creak. As she looked towards the window, Nora saw Emily exiting the house.
Although she hadn’t driven in a long time, Nora decided to follow Emily.
After some time, Emily parked her car and entered a coffee place where she met with a man. A few minutes later, they started kissing passionately. Nora took her phone to film them, but at that moment, they stopped kissing and could only be seen holding hands.
“Joey, I’m sorry for bothering you at work…but this is important. Can you meet me outside the café on the corner of 3rd Street?” Nora called her son.
Joe arrived after around 10 minutes and Nora told him what she had witnessed.
“Look there, Joey,” Nora pointed toward the café window. “Emily is cheating on you.”
Raged, Joe stormed inside the place.
“What the heck is going on here??” he slammed the table, startling Emily and her lover. “How long have you been seeing this chump behind my back?”
An arrogant customer threw fresh juice at me – but I’m not someone to be walked over, so I gave her a lesson she’ll remember.
When an entitled customer humiliated me and hurled her drink at my face in front of everyone, she thought I’d take it lying down. What happened next was a lesson in why one should never underestimate someone in an apron.
The moment I stepped into the health food store that morning, the scent of fresh produce and herbal teas hit me like a wave. I breathed it in, savoring the familiar aroma that had become a part of my daily routine over the past year. As I tied my apron around my waist, I couldn’t shake the feeling that today was going to be different somehow…
“Hey, Grace! Ready for another exciting day of juice-making?” My coworker, Ally, called out from behind the counter.
I laughed, shaking my head. “You know it! Gotta keep those entitled customers happy, right?”
But as I said those words, a knot formed in my stomach. There was one customer in particular who always seemed to go out of her way to make our lives miserable.
We called her “Miss Pompous” behind her back, a fitting name for someone who acted like she owned the place every time she walked through the door.
I tried to push thoughts of her aside as I started my shift. I needed this job, not just for me, but for my family.
My widowed mother’s medical bills weren’t going to pay themselves, and my younger sister was counting on me to help with her college expenses. This job was my lifeline, and I couldn’t afford to lose it.
As I wiped down the juice bar, Ally leaned in close. “Heads up,” she whispered. “Miss Pompous just pulled into the parking lot. Brace yourself.”
My heart sank. “Great! Just what I needed to start my day.”
The bell above the door chimed, and in she walked, her designer heels clicking against the floor like a countdown to disaster.
Miss Pompous strutted up to the counter, her nose so high in the air I was surprised she could see where she was going. Without so much as a “hello,” she barked her order at me.
“Carrot juice. Now.”
I bit my tongue, forcing a smile. “Of course, ma’am. Coming right up.”
As I started juicing the carrots, I could feel her eyes boring into me, watching my every move like a hawk. The pressure was so intense that my hands started to shake slightly as I worked.
Finally, I handed her the freshly made juice. “Here you go, ma’am. Enjoy your drink!”
She snatched it from my hand and took one sip. Her eyes widened in disgust and her mouth curled into a sneer.
“Uh-oh, looks like someone’s about to unleash their inner drama llama!” I thought.
Before I could even react, Miss Pompous THREW the entire contents of the cup directly AT MY FACE.
The cold liquid splashed across my cheeks, dripping down my chin and soaking into my apron. I stood there in stunned silence, unable to process what had just happened.
“What is this watered-down garbage?” she screeched, her voice echoing through the store. “Are you trying to poison me?”
I blinked, wiping juice from my eyes. “I… I don’t understand. It’s the same recipe we always use.”
“It’s disgusting! Make it again, and this time, use your brain!”
My cheeks burned with humiliation as I felt the eyes of every customer in the store on me. Tears threatened to spill over, but I refused to let her see me cry.
“Is there a problem here?” My manager, Mr. Weatherbee, suddenly appeared beside me, his brows furrowed in concern, though I couldn’t tell if it was for me or for the prospect of losing a customer.
Miss Pompous turned her venom on him. “Your incompetent employee can’t even make a simple juice correctly! I demand a refund and a free replacement!”
To my horror, Mr. Weatherbee immediately began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am. Of course, we’ll remake your juice right away, free of charge.”
He then turned to me. “Grace, please be more careful next time. We can’t afford to upset our valued customers.”
My jaw dropped. “But sir, I—”
He cut me off with a sharp look. “Just get the carrots from the fridge, Grace, and help me remake the juice.”
Miss Pompous smirked at me, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. In that moment, I felt smaller than the carrot peelings in the compost bin.
For a split second, I contemplated ripping off my apron and storming out, never to return.
But then, like a snapshot, my mom’s tired smile and my sister’s hopeful eyes flashed through my mind. I needed this job. I couldn’t let them down, not when they were counting on me.
So, with a heart hardening like steel, I stood my ground.
I forced myself to meet Miss Pompous’s gaze, refusing to buckle under the weight of her contempt. This entitled woman thought she could buy someone’s dignity with her money, that she could stamp out someone’s self-worth just because she was rich.
Well, not this time.
I wasn’t going to let it slide anymore. I wasn’t a doormat, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let my dignity be trampled on without consequence.
You know how they say you fight fire with fire? Well, this was it. A plan began to brew in my mind, bold and risky… but oh so satisfying!
As Mr. Weatherbee turned his back to the juicer and stepped away, answering a call on his cell phone, I made my move.
I casually reached into the fridge behind the counter, my fingers bypassing the neat, uniform carrots until they closed around the biggest, ugliest carrot I could find.
It was gnarled and tough… exactly what I needed.
I locked eyes with Miss Pompous, making sure she was watching.
“One moment, please,” I said, my voice sickly sweet. “I’ll make sure this juice is “perfect” for you.”
Miss Pompous watched with narrowed eyes as I fed it into the juicer.
The machine groaned and sputtered, struggling with the oversized vegetable. Juice began to spray everywhere across the counter, onto the floor, and most satisfyingly, all over Miss Pompous’s designer purse that she’d carelessly left too close to the danger zone.
Her shriek of horror was music to my ears.
“My bag!” she wailed, snatching it up and futilely trying to wipe away the orange stains. “You stupid girl! Look what you’ve done!”
“Oh no! I’m so sorry, ma’am. It was an accident, I swear.”
Her face turned an impressive shade of purple. “Accident? You deliberately ruined my three-thousand-dollar purse! I demand compensation! Where the heck is your manager?”
I could feel laughter bubbling up inside me, threatening to burst out. Struggling to keep a straight face, I gestured vaguely towards a group of customers browsing the aisles.
“I think I saw him helping someone over there,” I said, my voice wavering slightly with suppressed mirth.
As Miss Pompous turned to look, I took the opportunity to slip away, ducking behind the stockroom door.
From my hiding spot, I watched as she gave up waiting and stormed out of the store, clutching her dripping bag close to her chest, leaving a trail of carrot juice in her wake.
The bell above the door jangled violently as she slammed it behind her.
I let out a sigh of relief, but the knot in my stomach told me this wasn’t over. Miss Pompous wasn’t the type to let something like this go. I knew she’d be back, and next time, she’d be out for blood.
The next morning, I arrived at work with a swirl of dread churning in my stomach.
Barely an hour into my shift, Miss Pompous burst through the door like a storm cloud, making a beeline for the counter.
“Where is the owner?”
Before I could answer, Mr. Weatherbee emerged from the back room, his face pale. “Mrs. Johnson? Is there a problem?”
“I want to speak to the owner. Now!” she snapped.
As if on cue, the owner, Mr. Larson, appeared. He was a kind-faced man in his sixties.
“I’m the owner,” he said calmly. “What seems to be the problem?”
Miss Pompous launched into a tirade, her voice growing shriller with each word. “Your incompetent employee ruined my expensive purse yesterday! I demand she be fired immediately, and I expect full compensation for my loss!”
Mr. Larson listened patiently. When she finally ran out of steam, he simply said, “I see. Well, let’s take a look at the security footage, shall we?”
My heart skipped a beat. I’d forgotten about the cameras. Oh no.
We all gathered around the small monitor in Mr. Larson’s office. As the footage played, showing Miss Pompous throwing juice in my face and my subsequent “accident” with her purse, the room fell silent.
Finally, Mr. Larson turned to Miss Pompous. “Ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t offer you any compensation. What I see here is an unfortunate accident that occurred after you assaulted my employee. If anyone should be considering legal action, it’s us.”
Miss Pompous’s jaw dropped. “But… but my purse!”
“I suggest you leave now, Mrs. Johnson. And please don’t return to this establishment. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone who mistreats our staff.”
With a final glare of pure hatred in my direction, Miss Pompous stormed out, the bell over the door clanging violently in her wake.
As soon as she was gone, Mr. Larson turned to me, his eyes twinkling. “Well, Grace, I hope it was just an accident.”
“Yes, sir. It was! Why would I intentionally ruin a customer’s belongings?” I lied.
Mr. Larson nodded and walked away. As I hurried back to the juice bar, Ally gave me a high five. “Way to go, Grace! You stood up to the wicked witch!”
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in months. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Well, that was justice served, with a side of carrot juice! Sometimes, what goes around comes around in the most unexpected ways. And let me tell you, it tastes pretty sweet.
That night, as I recounted the story to my mom and sister over dinner, I realized something important: standing up for myself hadn’t just taught Miss Pompous a lesson, it had reminded me of my own worth.
So, have you ever dealt with entitled people like Miss Pompous? I’d love to hear your stories in the comments. After all, we’ve all got to stick together against the “Karens” of the world, right?
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