I told him her sharp comment probably came from exhaustion rather than a bad attitude. The manager sighed with relief and shared that she had been working back-to-back shifts all week because another server was out sick. He genuinely appreciated that I chose understanding instead of complaint.
When I stepped back toward the exit, I noticed the waitress nervously cleaning a nearby table. Her hands shook slightly, and she kept glancing toward the manager’s office, certain that trouble was coming. Before I left the building, I quietly folded several extra bills together with a small note and dropped them into the tip jar on the counter.
Less than two minutes later, the front door flew open.
The waitress ran out to our car in the parking lot with tears running down her cheeks. She apologized over and over for her harsh words. Between sobs, she explained that her mother had been in the hospital for days, she had been covering every possible shift to pay the bills, and she was running on almost no sleep.
My wife’s anger disappeared in an instant. She stepped out of the car, wrapped her arms around the young woman, and told her everything would be okay. During the drive home, my wife looked at me with soft eyes and admitted she had been certain I marched back inside to get the waitress in trouble.Continue reading…
