I’ve been a waitress for ten years at one of the fanciest spots in town, so I’ve seen it all. But nothing hit me like Jack and Lora.They used to be sweet — always splitting the bill, smiling over dessert. But recently, Jack had turned into a high-roller jerk, bringing in expensive orders and leaving Lora with the check. She looked more drained each time.
Then came the night he really crossed a line. Jack showed up with eight loud friends, claiming it was his “treat.” But when the $800+ bill came, he shoved it right into Lora’s hands — again. She looked crushed, excused herself, and I followed. She was crying in the restroom, telling a friend on the phone how Jack made her pay even though she earned more — and how tired she was of it.
That was it. I couldn’t watch her be treated like an ATM anymore. So I came up with a plan.I told her to fake an urgent call and leave. Then I walked over to Jack’s table and informed him there’d been a “reservation error” and he had to vacate the booth. No other large tables were available, and I offered to pack his food or suggest a dive bar nearby.
Lora “got her call,” grabbed her purse, and left with dignity. Jack’s friends bailed soon after. He was left alone — with a giant bill and no one to dump it on.The next day, Lora came back. She smiled, thanked me, and pressed a $100 tip into my hand. “You saved me,” she said. I just smiled and told her the truth: “Seeing the look on Jack’s face? Worth every second.”