More than eight hundred bucks. That was the whole cost of Jack’s “boys’ night out,” and he anticipated that his wife Lora would cover it. As waitress Melanie saw Lora’s dejection, she devised a daring strategy to make sure Jack’s night didn’t go the way he had intended.
A decade. I’ve been serving food at one of the most upscale restaurants in the downtown area for exactly that long. In this field of employment, one encounters a diverse range of people: radiant couples on their first dates, families commemorating birthdays with clingy children, and occasionally, business lunches that resemble interrogations more than meetings. However, nothing would have been ready for what I saw the other night.
There was this usual pair, Jack and Lora, once. Adorable as a button, constantly smiling while dividing the cost. Once a week, they would visit, have the same rich chocolate cake for dessert, and exchange sly glances akin to those of adolescence.
But things have changed of late. The tension-filled stillness that hung heavily between them had replaced the grins. Additionally, Lora has been stuck carrying the bill folder at the end of the night for the previous few months.
Conversely, Jack appeared to be going on a shopping binge. It was like a parade of the priciest steak chops and wine bottles you could ever conceive whenever he walked in.
And who was the one who was always left with the bill? Lora would silently swipe her card, becoming more and more pale and drawn.
But on this specific wet night, things took a completely absurd turn. A group of eight raucous and noisy companions accompanied Jack as he waltzed in and declared, fit for a king, that this was his “treat.”
While it was all fun and games for them, I felt a knot of concern tighten in my gut when I didn’t see Lora go in with them. They had ordered enough burgers and steaks to feed a small army.
She came, looking as like she had just finished a marathon, just as I was going to go see whether she was coming. She approached the gathering with a crimson tint around her eyes and a small stumble in her feet.
When she sat down, Jack was too busy yelling at me to refill their drinks that he hardly looked up.
As the evening drew on, I picked up empty dishes while keeping an ear out for their table. That’s when I overheard a passage of their talk that instantly chilled me to the bone.
Lora said to Jack, “I won’t pay this time,” with a trembling I had never heard before. “Jack, I mean business.”
He only laughed. Yes, darling. Your cute little head shouldn’t worry about it. I’ll handle every detail.
Simple for him to say, I thought, growling under my breath.
But Jack thrust the large bill—which was close to $800—straight into Lora’s palm when it came.
It felt like some kind of cruel joke, the way her face became pale and the tears that started to spring up in her eyes as Jack simply kept throwing that awful bill at her.
Lora excused herself and ran for the bathroom. I ran after her, and as I got to the threshold, there was a loud, muffled shout from within.
“So I have to pay for all of his friends even if I make 25% more than him? It’s ridiculous, this. Lora sobbed into her phone. How is he able to insist that I always pay the bill? This is so unjust!
This was about control more than it was about money. I also refused to allow him to mistreat her in that way.
Her phone call, full of tears, rang in my ears. I took a long breath to calm myself down and walked up to Lora as she came out of the bathroom, patting her eyes with a folded napkin.
“Lora, how are you doing?” I said. Can I do anything at all?
Her eyes grew teary once again. She blurted out, “Jack keeps insisting I pay for everything.” “This is something I can’t afford to do every day!”
It was the validation of my preconceived notions. I was really sorry for her. This was incorrect.
Before I could console her more, though, a hazardous notion occurred to me; perhaps, just possibly, this was the only course of action.
My thoughts were racing. Here I was, a waitress in this pricey city who was barely making ends meet, prepared to jeopardize my job in order to assist a client.
But I knew what I had to do when I saw the hopeless dread in Lora’s eyes and the way Jack handled her like a living ATM.
I said, “Listen, this is what we can do. Pretend you received an important call and head out the moment I return. I will take care of the bill, so don’t worry about it.
For a split second, Lora’s expression was confused, but then hope sprang in her eyes.
“Are you certain?” she said in a whisper. “How is your job doing?”
With a comforting squeeze of her palm, we exchanged a silent vow. I said, “Don’t worry about me.” Simply have faith in me.
After pausing for a second more, she nodded nervously, went for her phone, and began tapping away, moving closer to her table.
I turned back towards the kitchen, praying that my plan wouldn’t go horribly wrong. My heart pounded in my chest.
I resisted the impulse to look out from the kitchen for what seemed like an eternity—a few minutes. I inhaled deeply, put on my biggest grin, and walked up to their table.
I cleared my throat, and Jack, still deep in discussion with his friends, didn’t even look up.
I said, “Excuse me, sir,” loud enough for everyone seated at the table to hear. “I just received word from the manager that there was a little confusion regarding your reservation.”
Jack held his chest out as if he were about to crow. What error? We had no trouble making a reservation for nine.
“Well, sir,” I said, trying to seem sympathetic as I went on, “it seems there was a duplicate booking for your table tonight. We have another big party coming in a little while, and they asked for this same booth.
Jack’s expression twisted in shock. Sensing trouble was about to break out, his “friends” began moving uneasily in their chairs and their enthusiastic discussion subsided to a low murmur.
“But… but we ordered already,” Jack stumbled, his demeanor evidently deteriorating as he cast a quick glimpse at the mound of untouched food.
“Sir, I understand,” I answered in a stern yet courteous tone. However, we would no longer be able to seat you at this table because the reservation was made under a different name.
Jack’s arrogance subsided and was replaced with a terrified desperation.
With wide eyes, he scanned the restaurant in search of a miracle. The disorganized tables weren’t the best for the impression he was attempting to give off, and there weren’t any unoccupied booths large enough for his party.
“Maybe we could just go to another large table?” He begged
I apologized and said, “Unfortunately, sir, we’re completely booked tonight.” I’ll do my best to pack your meal to go or maybe… I stopped abruptly.
Maybe you should go to the pub across the street with your pals. They can accommodate big gatherings with lots of room.
Jack’s face took on the hue of a well cooked steak. He was familiar with that place; it was a dump known for its cheap beer and greasy comfort food, a far cry from the classy setting he’d been attempting to impress his “friends” with.
As though on cue, Lora suddenly “remembered” her “urgent call” and got to her feet while acting alarmed.
Her voice was filled with fake concern as she screamed, “Oh my gosh, I completely forgot!” “I have a crucial meeting with a customer. I had to head out immediately!
After giving me a brief “thank you” and giving Jack a sharp glance that said a lot, she took her bag and left, leaving a dejected and shocked Jack in her wake.
Seeing his point, his “friends” began inventing justifications for their own “sudden emergencies.” They turned away from their commander one by one, like rats from a sinking ship.
Now all by himself with the remains of his extortionate dinner and the enormous bill, Jack at last saw the trap he had fallen into.
“But the bill, though!” His voice high-pitched and panicked, he muttered.
I apologetically shrugged. “Sorry, sir, but the entire party’s bill is your responsibility.”
Jack’s face went from crimson to purple as he stuttered and argued. I told him nicely that the manager was occupied, but he insisted on speaking with him.
Ultimately, Jack had to foot the cost for the entire dinner because he didn’t have Lora to help with the finances and his “friends” had moved on. His exciting night out with the men turned into a sour aftertaste of loneliness and a heavy charge.
His begrudging swipe of his card revealed a smile of complete joy on his face.
Lora entered through the open door the following day as the lunch throng began to trickle in. Her gaze darted across the room until it found me, at which point she made a beeline for my station.
With warmth in her voice, she yelled, “Melanie!” I would want to express my gratitude once more for all of your efforts last night. You protected me not just from financial loss but also from… Her voice twitched as she drifted off.
“From being bullied,” I softly concluded for her. The truth was known by both of us.
With tears in her eyes, Lora nodded. She extracted a crisp one hundred dollar cash from her handbag.
She pushed it in my direction and urged, “Here.” “You deserve this for your trouble.”
I wavered. Even though I hadn’t done it for the money, I couldn’t say no when I saw Lora’s sincere thanks.
“Thank you, Lora,” I grinned as I took the money. “But to be honest, it was reward enough to see Jack’s expression!”
We laughed together, our common experience forging an instant connection.
With a playful twinkle in my eyes, I remarked, “So, what are you going to do with all that extra money you saved last night?”
Lora’s eyes glistened. With a conspiratorial lean, she continued, “Well, I was thinking of treating myself to a fancy spa day.” Perhaps even a massage.”
The tension from the previous night vanished as we both started laughing.
I couldn’t help but think about Lora and the numerous other people who may be in similar circumstances as the day went on. Perhaps, I reasoned, my small defiance will encourage someone else to defend morality.
Because of Lora’s experience, I now understand that sometimes the most valuable things we can provide are off the menu. Sometimes, offering a little compassion, a dash of bravery, and a ton of support is the finest service we can offer.
So, folks, have you ever seen someone subjected to such bullying? How would you have responded in the situation?