Entitled Lady at a Restaurant Gets Her Karma Served On a Silver Platter
With her heart thrumming, Stephanie slipped out the back door and found the bus driver checking the engine.
“How long until you’re rolling out?” she asked.
He glanced at his watch. “About an hour—maybe a little less.”
Perfect.
When the sundae was nearly done, Stephanie returned to Karen’s table, her voice syrup-sweet.
“Ma’am, we’re so sorry about earlier. Our chef has prepared something special just for you.”
Karen’s face brightened, smugness returning like it had been there all along.
“Finally!” she crowed, loud enough for half the diner to hear. “Took you long enough to figure out how to treat paying customers.”
She called her kids over, puffing herself up as though she’d just won some personal battle.
Stephanie guided them toward the kitchen to pick up the sundae, enduring Karen’s running commentary about “small-town incompetence” and “backwoods kitchens.” She didn’t care.
Karen dug into the sundae with exaggerated delight—right as a sharp honk echoed from outside. Her spoon froze midair. She turned toward the window just in time to see the bus idling, ready to leave.
Karen shot out of the booth, ice cream dripping down her kids’ chins as they scrambled after her. She barreled through the door, shrieking, “Wait! WAIT!”
The driver didn’t notice. The bus pulled away, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight.
Karen’s face twisted, a mix of shock, rage, and panic. She fumbled for her phone and barked into it, “Babe, you have to come get us. The bus left!”
