A Sales Assistant Told My Wife She Wasn’t ‘Pretty Enough’ to Work in Their Store — I Returned a Few Days Later for the Perfect Revenge

A store assistant dared to bring MY wife to tears by being mean. She did that all because my spouse sought employment at the establishment she worked at. After hearing my wife’s tale, I took action to redress the situation. What I did ensured that the assistant would think twice when addressing anyone else!

An emotional woman crying | Source: Pexels

An emotional woman crying | Source: Pexels

This is an exciting tale about pure and sweet revenge! My name is Thomas, and Emma, my wife, has ALWAYS had an eye for fashion. Her wardrobe is a testament to her impeccable taste. Not that I am biased or showing off, but my Emma knows all there is to know about the latest trends!

I mean, most days, she’s the one who dresses me. No, not because I am sexist and think it’s her job, but because she LOVES doing that. And to be honest, I look FANTASTIC each time, so I’m NOT complaining!

A woman picking out clothes for a man | Source: Pexels

A woman picking out clothes for a man | Source: Pexels

For years, my wife skirted around her true passion. She did all sorts of jobs. Like being a receptionist, and a nurse at one point (sadly short-lived), and even dabbled in art. But she still couldn’t find her place.

Recently, my beloved wife decided to turn her passion for fashion (see what I did there) into a career. She started actively searching for a job in retail. Her thinking was that it would fit perfectly with her interests.

A woman dressed up and posing in a store | Source: Pexels

A woman dressed up and posing in a store | Source: Pexels

When she got home all emotional one day, she told me the story of what happened. Emma explained that on that fateful day, she was at the shopping center in the afternoon. She then noticed a famous lingerie store with a “Now Hiring” poster on the window.

Excited, she revealed, “I immediately went inside to inquire! But boy, was I in for the shock of my life.” She shared how her excitement started dying down when she approached the sales assistant and tried to speak to her.

A store assistant sticking a "Now Hiring" sign | Source: Freepik

A store assistant sticking a “Now Hiring” sign | Source: Freepik

The rude woman didn’t even glance my wife’s way until she was DIRECTLY in front of her! A bit down but still quite enthusiastic, Emma asked about the job application process. Instead, the assistant looked her up and down with a sneer and an attitude. Then she delivered the stinging words:

“Look, hun, I don’t think you’re pretty enough for this job. NO CHANCE. Don’t even try, okay?”

A store assistant with an attitude | Source: Pexels

A store assistant with an attitude | Source: Pexels

Before calming down enough to be able to tell me her story, my lovely wife was in tears when she came home. She was heartbroken by the cruel remark. I’ve never seen my wife so utterly devastated before, and my heart broke seeing her that way.

I wrapped my arms around her, trying to console her. “My love, don’t let her get to you. You’re beautiful and talented. You’re worth so much more than her words,” I said softly. “But why would she say that?” Emma sobbed. “I just wanted to apply for a job. I didn’t deserve that.”

A man comforting his crying wife | Source: Pexels

A man comforting his crying wife | Source: Pexels

“She’s a small-minded person, my angel,” I tried consoling my wife. Seeing her so dejected made me FURIOUS! No one, and I mean NOBODY, should make my Emma feel this way, treat her that badly, and get away with it!

And you know what? As anger took over me, I figured it was high time someone showed that nasty assistant how wrong she was! I decided to give that sales assistant a lesson in humility she would NEVER forget!

A man contemplating something | Source: Pexels

A man contemplating something | Source: Pexels

Over the next couple of days, I concocted a plan. I reached out to my friend Mike, who works in the fashion industry, to get his help. Mike was more than willing to assist when he heard what had happened.

“That’s unbelievable, man. Of course, I’ll help. Let’s give her a taste of her own medicine,” Mike said over the phone. A few days later, my plan was set in motion. I dressed well, with the help of my Emma, and headed back to the lingerie store.

A happy man holding a beverage and talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A happy man holding a beverage and talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

I had done my research enough to make sure the same sales assistant was working on that day. I then started pretending to browse the aisles, waiting for the perfect moment. When the store had only a few customers, I approached the assistant with a friendly smile.

“Hello, I’m looking to buy something special for my wife. Could you help me pick out a few things?” I asked. Her attitude changed immediately, seeing a potential big sale. She became attentive and started showing me various items.

A man browsing in a lingerie store | Source: Midjourney

A man browsing in a lingerie store | Source: Midjourney

“Absolutely, sir! We have a fantastic selection. What’s the occasion?” she asked, her tone now sweet as we went around the store. “Just a surprise for my wife. I want to get her something really special,” I replied, pretending to be thoughtful.

“Great! How about this piece? It’s one of our most popular items,” she suggested, holding up a delicate lace set. “Do you think this would look good on her?” I asked, examining the lingerie. “Oh, definitely! It’s one of our best sellers. Your wife will love it,” she assured me.

A store assistant working | Source: Pexels

A store assistant working | Source: Pexels

“Can you show me a few more options? I want to make sure I get the perfect one,” I said, keeping her engaged. As she showed me more pieces, I made small talk to keep her invested. “So, how long have you been working here?” I inquired.

“About six months,” she replied. “It’s a great job if you have the right look for it.” I nodded, pretending to be interested. “That’s interesting. Do they hire often?”

“Only when they really need someone. They’re picky about who they bring on,” she said with a hint of pride.

A man talking to a store assistant | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to a store assistant | Source: Midjourney

After about thirty minutes, I told her I needed to step outside to call my wife for her opinion on one of the items. Instead of calling Emma, I called my friend Mike. He arrived quickly to enact his part of the plan.

We walked back into the store together. My pal approached the sales assistant and introduced himself. “Hi there,” Mike began, extending his hand. “I’m Mike Gladstone, a talent scout for a major fashion brand.”

A man reaching out to shake someone's hand | Source: Freepik

A man reaching out to shake someone’s hand | Source: Freepik

He acted impressed with the store, hinting it was a great place to find fresh talent. “I’ve been looking for someone with a unique look and a great personality. Do you think you might have anyone like that here?”

The assistant’s eyes widened with excitement. “Oh, really? Well, I’ve been told I have a great look for this sort of thing,” she said, clearly thinking this was her big break. Mike gave her a critical once-over and shook his head.

A man contemplating something | Source: Freepik

A man contemplating something | Source: Freepik

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you quite fit what we’re looking for,” he replied. “We need someone who STANDS OUT in the right way, you understand?” The assistant looked UTTERLY crushed!

Before she could respond, Mike turned to me. “What about you?” he asked, gesturing towards me. “You have an interesting look. Have you ever considered modeling?” The assistant’s jaw dropped! She was completely taken aback!

A shocked woman | Source: Freepik

A shocked woman | Source: Freepik

I smiled and replied, “No, but I do have someone in mind who would be perfect for your campaign.” Without missing a beat, I said, “My wife, Emma. She’s stunning, confident, and absolutely beautiful inside and out.”

Mike nodded enthusiastically. “I’d LOVE to meet her. Let’s set up an interview.” I turned to the assistant, who was now pale and visibly shaken. Looking straight into her eyes to get the message across, I said:

“You know, it’s funny how perceptions can be so misleading. Maybe next time, YOU’LL think twice before judging someone based on their looks.”

A man talking to a female store assistant | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to a female store assistant | Source: Midjourney

As we walked out, I could feel the assistant’s eyes burning into my back. Emma met with Mike later. Although she didn’t pursue modeling, the experience gave her a much-needed confidence boost.

“So, how did it go?” I asked my wife when she came back from her meeting with my friend. “It was AMAZING, actually! Mike was so kind and professional!” she beamed. “He said I had real potential,” she said, her face glowing with happiness.

A happy woman lying on a bed | Source: Pexels

A happy woman lying on a bed | Source: Pexels

“I told you, darling! You have everything it takes,” I replied, hugging her tightly. That evening, Emma and I sat down for dinner, reflecting on the events. “I can’t believe you did all that for me,” she said, holding my hand across the table.

“I’d do anything for you, my love. No one gets to make you feel less than you are,” I said firmly.

A happy couple talking | Source: Pexels

A happy couple talking | Source: Pexels

A week later, we were back at the shopping center. This time, Emma walked with newfound confidence. As we passed by the lingerie store, I couldn’t help but glance inside. The sales assistant was there, looking as if she was still recovering from the shock.

“Want to go in and browse?” I teased Emma. She laughed, shaking her head. “I’ve had enough of that store for a lifetime!” We continued walking, hand in hand, knowing that sometimes, the best revenge isn’t just a clever plan. It’s lifting up the ones you love and helping them see their true worth.

A happy couple having beverages at a shopping center | Source: Pexels

A happy couple having beverages at a shopping center | Source: Pexels

So, that’s my story. Sometimes, the best way to handle things is to make someone realize how wrong they were in the most public and humiliating way possible. And trust me, seeing the look on that sales assistant’s face was something I’ll remember forever!

Two men pleased with themselves | Source: Freepik

Two men pleased with themselves | Source: Freepik

I MARRIED A WIDOWER WITH A SMALL SON – ONE DAY, THE BOY TOLD ME THAT HIS REAL MOM STILL LIVES IN OUR HOUSE

The antique clock in the hallway chimed six times, its resonant tones echoing through the quiet house. I knelt on the living room carpet, building a precarious tower of blocks with Lucas, my five-year-old stepson. He giggled, his small hands clumsily placing a wobbly blue block atop the structure.

“Careful, Lucas,” I cautioned, “it’s going to fall!”

He squealed with delight as the tower swayed, then crashed to the ground. But his laughter died abruptly, replaced by a wide-eyed stare directed towards the hallway.

“Mom says you shouldn’t touch her things,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

A shiver ran down my spine. “What do you mean, sweetie?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

He pointed towards the hallway, his eyes fixed on something I couldn’t see. “Mom says she doesn’t like it when you move her picture.”

My heart pounded in my chest. “Lucas,” I said, forcing a smile, “your mom… she’s not here anymore, remember?”

He shook his head, his expression serious. “No, she is. She’s right there.”

I followed his gaze, my eyes scanning the empty hallway. There was nothing there, just the familiar antique furniture and the framed photographs on the wall. Yet, Lucas’s words echoed in my mind, fueling a growing unease that had been plaguing me for weeks.

It had started with a simple whisper, a chilling confession as I tucked him into bed one night. “My real mom still lives here,” he had said, his voice barely a breath.

I had dismissed it as a child’s overactive imagination, a way of coping with the loss of his mother. But then, strange things started happening. Lucas’s toys, meticulously tidied away, would reappear in the middle of the living room floor. Kitchen cabinets, carefully organized, would be found rearranged overnight. And the photograph of Ben’s late wife, Mary, which I had moved to a less prominent spot, kept returning to its original place on the mantelpiece, perfectly dusted.

I had tried to rationalize it, to attribute it to forgetfulness or coincidence. But the incidents grew more frequent, more unsettling. And Ben, my husband, seemed oblivious, or perhaps, deliberately blind to it all.

“Ben,” I had said one evening, my voice trembling, “have you noticed anything… strange happening around the house?”

He had looked at me, his brow furrowed. “Strange? Like what?”

I hesitated, unsure how to articulate the growing sense of unease that had taken root in my heart. “I don’t know… things moving, things changing…”

He had chuckled, dismissing my concerns with a wave of his hand. “You’re just tired, darling. It’s been a stressful few weeks.”

But I wasn’t tired. I was terrified.

Now, as I looked at Lucas, his eyes wide with conviction, I knew I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Something was happening in this house, something I couldn’t explain.

“Lucas,” I said, my voice gentle, “can you tell me more about your mom? What does she look like?”

He tilted his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “She’s very pretty,” he said. “She has long hair, like you. And she wears a white dress.”

My blood ran cold. The description matched the woman in the photograph, the woman whose presence seemed to linger in every corner of this house.

“And what does she say to you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Lucas looked at me, his eyes filled with a chilling seriousness. “She says she’s not happy,” he whispered. “She says you’re trying to take her place.”

A wave of fear washed over me, so intense it almost brought me to my knees. I looked around the room, the familiar furniture suddenly seeming menacing, the shadows deepening in the corners. I felt a presence, a cold, unseen gaze fixed upon me.

I had married a widower, a man I loved deeply, a man who had welcomed me into his life and his home. But I had also married into a house haunted by the past, a house where the presence of his late wife lingered, a house where I was not welcome.

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