I never expected that a regular Friday night shift would change everything. Two arrogant men in expensive suits decided I was beneath them, mocking my age and refusing to pay their bill. But they didn’t know someone was watching.
What happened next was something no one saw coming. I’m 40 years old, and I’m a single mom to two amazing kids. Ella is 13, all sarcasm and smarts, growing up way too fast because she sees how hard I work.
Max is 8, pure energy and sweetness, still young enough to believe his mom can fix anything. Their dad walked out five years ago after deciding he was “too young to feel trapped.”
That’s what he actually said to me. A mortgage and two kids under ten felt like a prison sentence to him.
So, he left, and I’ve been holding everything together since then. The bills, the school projects, the midnight fevers when Max gets sick, and the broken washing machine that flooded the basement last winter. All of it lands on me.
I used to have a decent job in HR at a mid-sized company downtown. I worked there for 15 years before the company restructured. That’s corporate speak for replacing you with someone half your age who’ll work for half the salary.
And just like that, 15 years of loyalty meant nothing. Eight months later, here I am. I’m still wearing the same pair of nonslip shoes that squeak every time I walk past the counter at Miller’s Diner.
I pull double shifts most weeks, smile through bone-deep exhaustion, and serve coffee to people who call me sweetheart like it’s some kind of insult. Like I’m less than them because I’m bringing them food instead of sitting in a glass office somewhere. Last Friday night started like any other shift.
The dinner rush had died down, and I was refilling saltshakers when two men in expensive suits walked in. They headed straight for the booth by the window, the one I usually save for my nice regulars because it catches the evening light just right. From the second I handed them menus, I could feel it.
That look. The one that says they don’t see you as a person, just some background character in their important lives. The younger one smirked as I pulled out my notepad.
“Guess this place is hiring moms now, huh? What happened? The PTA bake sale didn’t pay enough?”
His friend laughed, loud and ugly.
“She probably just wanted an excuse to get away from the kids for a few hours.”
My face went hot, but I forced my smile to stay in place. After this many months of waitressing, I’d gotten good at swallowing my pride. “Can I get you started with something to drink?”
“Two coffees,” the first one said, waving his hand like I was a servant.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
TAP → NEXT PAGE → 👇
