Entitled Lady at a Restaurant Gets Her Karma Served On a Silver Platter
Greg, the diner’s owner, stepped outside to investigate. Stephanie watched him speak with the driver, who looked flustered and apologetic.
“Engine trouble,” he told Greg with a helpless shrug. “Mechanics are on the way, but it’s gonna be a while. Mind if we wait here?”
Greg hesitated, but his nature got the better of him. He waved the group inside.
The passengers shuffled in reluctantly, their sour expressions souring the air. Stephanie caught the look in her coworkers’ eyes—they all knew this would be no easy crowd.
Stephanie ushered the group toward open tables, offering menus and water, her voice even despite the tension radiating off them. She caught the muttered complaints, the judgmental glances at the diner’s dated decor. She’d seen this before—frustrated people looking for somewhere to aim their annoyance.
She was delivering menus to a booth when the door banged open. A woman strode in like she owned the place. Stephanie knew the type instantly—the loud entrance, the slow, sweeping look of disdain, the raised brow. Trouble.
The woman’s voice cut through the room as she spoke into her phone: “Yeah, babe, it’s some cheap place in the middle of nowhere. Zero standards.” Stephanie’s jaw tensed, but she stayed composed.
Her two kids trailed behind, running wild, elbows flying, voices echoing. She didn’t spare them a glance.
