Restaurant Manager Kicks Out Old Lady Asking for Shelter, Next Day Sees Her Sitting with Owner – Story of the Day

One day, an old lady got drenched in heavy rain after a sudden outpour. She decided to seek shelter at a famous cafe, only to be kicked out by the restaurant manager. What happens next stuns the arrogant employee.

Linda Meyers was on her way to dinner when heavy rain suddenly started pouring. She didn’t have an umbrella with her, so her well-kept hair was suddenly damp and all over her face. Her blouse and jacket looked worn out after they got soaked as well.

The closest establishment to her at the time was a famous cafe that rich and famous people would frequent. As she got to the entrance, she was suddenly stopped by the porter.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Ma’am, this is an exclusive cafe. You need a reservation to enter,” he started, before looking at her from head to toe. “It seems you can hardly afford to dine in here, too,” he muttered.

Offended by the rude remark, she asked the porter to call the restaurant manager. But instead of letting her in, the manager echoed the porter’s sentiments and asked her to leave.

“Ma’am, I’m currently hosting over a hundred people inside. Let’s not waste our time here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the manager, whose nameplate said “Simon,” told Linda.

“I just need a place to stay until the rain dies down. I’ll even order,” she insisted.

“I can’t let you go in looking like that. You’re going to scare away all of our guests,” Simon shook his head. At that, the woman left, trying to find another place to wait.

The next day, when Simon got to work, the cafe owner was already there. He immediately called Simon over. “Today is a very special day. We have an important guest coming, my friend and his wife. They’re potential buyers of this cafe. That said, everything must be in top shape.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Simon oriented the waiters on what to do that day, making sure everything was well-prepared for their VIP guests’ arrival. That evening, the owner called Simon to their table.

“Let me introduce you to our manager. He is an excellent part of our team. He knows his job and is very kind, sensitive, sympathetic, and helpful,” the owner said. At that, the woman turned to him with a smile on her face.

“Very nice indeed. I can see that he is exactly the way you described him to be,” the woman, who turned out to be Linda, said.

The manager couldn’t hide the horrified look on his face after realizing the woman was the person he rudely shut out the night before. After seeing the look on his face, Linda turned back to the cafe owner.

“You have a great restaurant and such endearing staff. My husband and I are happy to buy the cafe,” she said.

The next day, Linda and her husband went straight to work. They wanted to observe how the cafe operated on a daily basis and get to know their new staff members.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

When Linda saw Simon, she bore him some bad news. “Simon, my husband and I have made the decision to demote you as a waiter. We don’t think the way you treated me the other night is any way to treat a customer,” she explained.

Immediately, Simon was given an apron and a tray, and he started working as a waiter. He was humiliated, but he didn’t want to lose his job entirely.

A couple of days later, a poor woman entered the cafe. She sat at a table and ordered a sandwich and hot tea. After she finished her meal, Simon handed her the bill.

“Oh dear,” the old woman said as she looked through her purse. “I must have forgotten my wallet at home. I am so sorry. I can wash the dishes, or clean the restaurant, anything so that I could repay you,” she said.

Simon shook his head. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I will pay for your tab this time around,” he said with a smile.

The woman proceeded to thank Simon, to which he replied: “It’s no problem. People should help each other out. A couple of days ago, the new owner of this restaurant gave me a second chance because she is a kind person. I want to be like her. After all, I believe in karma.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I think you will become a manager again,” the woman replied. Simon was confused as to how the woman knew about his demotion. At that moment, Linda approached the table.

“This woman here is my friend. I wanted to test you and see whether or not you’ve learned your lesson. I’m happy to know that you’ve passed the test. You can return to your managerial duties effective immediately,” Linda said, giving him a tap on the back.

Simon was delighted. He had never seen such kindness in anybody, and he was grateful that Linda gave him yet another chance to do well at his job.

Since that day, Simon went to work with a smile on his face. He loved his job, and it was all thanks to the boost of confidence the new cafe owners gave him. He would patiently tend to his staff and the customers, and it led the cafe to become even more successful.

What can we learn from this story?

  • We should not judge others by their outward appearance. The porter and Simon were quick to judge Linda for how she looked, not knowing she’d end up owning the business they worked in.
  • People deserve a second chance. Linda was nice enough to give Simon a second chance, knowing he enjoyed his work.

Share this story with your loved ones. It might inspire them and make their day.

I Discovered My Husband Mocks Me in Front of His Friends & I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

I’m a full-time mom. About a year ago, I left my job to take care of our three-year-old daughter, who is autistic and requires a lot of support. Lately, I’ve noticed that my usually feminist husband has been criticizing me in a group chat.

Transitioning into the role of a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) wasn’t something I had envisioned for myself. I used to thrive in the fast-paced world of marketing, surrounded by campaigns and fueled by brainstorming sessions over coffee. But all that changed a little over a year ago when my husband, Jake, and I made a significant decision. Our daughter, Lily, who is three and autistic, needed more attention than what her daycare could provide. Her needs are complex, requiring constant care and support, and it became clear that one of us had to be with her full-time.

I won’t sugarcoat it — leaving my career behind was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. I miss the freedom of earning my own income and the satisfaction of a job well done. But here I am now, spending my days planning meals, cooking, and baking. I’ve found joy in these tasks, and experimenting in the kitchen has become my new creative outlet.

Our backyard has turned into a small garden oasis under my care, and I take care of most of the household chores. Jake does his fair share too; he’s actively involved in chores and parenting whenever he’s at home. We’ve always considered ourselves equals, rejecting traditional gender roles, or so I thought until last week.

It was a regular Thursday, and I was tidying up Jake’s home office while he was at work. It’s filled with tech gadgets and piles of paperwork, typical for someone in software development. His computer screen caught my eye — it was still on, casting a soft glow in the dim room. He usually left it on by accident, but what I saw next wasn’t accidental at all.

His Twitter feed was open, and I froze when I saw the hashtag #tradwife attached to a tweet. Confusion washed over me as I read the post. It glorified the joys of having a traditional wife who embraces her domestic duties. Attached was a photo of me, taking a batch of cookies out of the oven, looking every bit like a 1950s housewife. My stomach churned as I scrolled through more posts. There I was again, tending to the garden and reading to Lily, our faces thankfully obscured.

This was Jake’s account, and he had been crafting a whole narrative about our life that was far from reality. He portrayed me as a woman who relished her role as a homemaker, willingly sacrificing her career for aprons and storybooks. The truth of our situation — that this arrangement was a necessity for our daughter’s well-being — was nowhere to be seen.

I felt betrayed. Here was the man I’d loved and trusted for over a decade, sharing our life with strangers under a false pretense that felt foreign to me. It wasn’t just the lies about our relationship dynamics that hurt — it was also the realization that he was using these glimpses of our life to bolster some online persona.

I shut the computer down, my hands trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment. All day, I grappled with my emotions, trying to comprehend why Jake would do this. Was he dissatisfied with our situation? Did he resent my decision to stay home? Or was it something deeper, a shift in how he perceived me now that I wasn’t contributing financially?

The rest of the day passed in a blur. His posts kept replaying in my mind, and eventually, I couldn’t ignore them any longer. I decided to call him and address everything head-on.

“Jake, we need to talk,” I finally said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He answered, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?”

I took a deep breath, the weight of my discovery weighing heavily on me. “I saw your Twitter today…”

His expression fell, and he let out a long sigh, indicating he knew exactly what this conversation was about to entail. He started to respond, but I interrupted him.

“Calm down,” he said, dismissing it as “just harmless posting.” That was the final straw. I told him I wanted a divorce, called him out for his deceit, and ended the call.

Jake rushed home immediately. We argued, but with Lily’s strict schedule, I couldn’t let the conflict drag on. He pleaded with me to have a proper conversation after putting Lily to bed. Reluctantly, I agreed. That night, he showed me his phone, revealing that he had deleted the Twitter account. But the damage was already done.

A week passed, and my anger hadn’t subsided. This wasn’t a simple misunderstanding. It was a breach of trust. Jake attempted to explain, claiming it started as a joke, but he got carried away with the attention it garnered. But excuses weren’t enough.

Motivated by a mix of hurt and the need for justice, I decided to expose him. I took screenshots of his tweets and shared them on my Facebook page. I wanted our friends and family to know the truth. My post was straightforward: “Your husband belittles you in front of his friends behind your back. Sound familiar?”

The response was immediate. Our relatives were shocked, and the comments poured in. Jake was inundated with messages and calls. He left work early once more to beg for my forgiveness. He knelt, tears in his eyes, pleading that it was all just a “silly game.”

But I couldn’t let it go. The trust that bound us together was broken. It wasn’t just about a few misguided posts; it was about the respect and understanding we were supposed to have for each other. I told him I needed time and space to think and heal. I moved out with Lily to another apartment.

For six months, Jake begged for forgiveness. He sent messages, left voicemails, and made small gestures to show he was sorry. But sorry wasn’t enough. I told him that if he truly wanted to make amends, we needed to start anew. In my eyes, we were strangers now, and he had to court me like he did years ago when we first met.

So, we began again, slowly. We went on dates, starting with coffee and progressing to dinners. We talked a lot — about everything except the past. It was like rediscovering ourselves individually and as a couple. Jake was patient, perhaps realizing this was his last chance to salvage our once-loving relationship.

As I sit here now, reflecting on the past year, I realize how much I’ve changed. This betrayal forced me to reevaluate not only my marriage but also myself and my needs. I’ve learned that forgiveness isn’t just about accepting an apology; it’s about feeling secure and valued again. It’s a gradual process, one that we’re both committed to, step by step.

What would you have done if you were in my shoes? Share your thoughts on Facebook.

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