
Frank had always prided himself on his sneaky tactics to get freebies, but his luck ran out at a high-end restaurant. What began as a simple meal turned into a public spectacle when karma finally caught up with him, teaching him a lesson he never saw coming.
My father-in-law, Frank, has always been one of those people who never miss an opportunity to scam others for their own benefit.
I’ve witnessed him do that multiple times, but I never thought I’d see the day when his tricks would backfire so spectacularly, leaving him red-faced and scrambling for an exit.

A close-up shot of an older man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I’ve known Frank for about nine years now. I first met him when Ethan and I started dating, and Ethan introduced us over dinner at a restaurant. That was the first time I saw Frank trying to scam a restaurant.
The waiters served our food, and we began eating. I ordered pasta, Ethan got a sandwich, and Frank ordered a bowl of rice with sesame chicken.

A bowl of sesame chicken with rice | Source: Pexels
“The chicken is so delicious!” Frank said, enjoying his meal.
“Yeah, even this sandwich tastes great,” Ethan added.
I thought Frank was just appreciating the restaurant’s food and service. But no. Frank had something else in mind, and what he did next caught me completely off guard.
“Let me show you how to get more of the same meal for free!” he said before calling a waiter over to our table.

An older man in a restaurant, smiling | Source: Midjourney
“How can I help you, sir?” the waiter asked politely.
“This chicken tastes awful!” Frank said angrily, shaking his head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re serving such tasteless meals. The flavor is bland, and it’s not even properly cooked.”
“I’m so sorry, sir,” the waiter apologized. “I’ll get a replacement right away.”
“Hurry up!” Frank snapped. “I don’t have time to waste here. You better return with something that’s properly cooked!”

A waiter in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The waiter looked panicked, apologizing as if he was at fault. He took away the half-eaten meal that Frank pretended to dislike, promising to return in five minutes.
Once the waiter left, Frank flashed us an evil smile like he had pulled off something impressive.
At that point, I wanted to ask Frank why he lied to get another meal for free. It wasn’t like he didn’t have money, or he was dying of hunger.

A woman looking straight ahead while having dinner with her family | Source: Midjourney
What he did was so cheap, but I believed I was not in a position to make him realize how wrong he was.
Later that night, I asked Ethan why his father did that.
“He’s always been like this,” Ethan sighed. “He thinks it’s funny and he never listens when we tell him it’s wrong. We’ve tried a million times, trust me.”
“But didn’t you see how hurt that waiter was? He really thought your dad didn’t like the food,” I protested. “This is so wrong, Ethan. So unfair.”

A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney
Ethan told me to let it go, and since we were just starting our relationship, I figured it wasn’t worth arguing over.
I could’ve pressed Ethan to understand how wrong Frank’s actions were, but I didn’t want something so minor to strain our relationship.
However, looking back, I wish I had told Ethan to put an end to his dad’s habit.

An older man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The following year, Ethan and I tied the knot, and since then, I’ve been a witness to how cheap Frank is. I’ve watched in horror as he pulled stunts to get free food, free services in hotels, and free ANYTHING, ANYWHERE!

A man shaking hands with a woman at work | Source: Pexels
During the first year of our marriage, I tried explaining to Ethan how wrong his father’s behavior was, but it led to a big argument. Ethan kept saying he had no control over Frank, while I insisted he at least talk to his dad about it.
That night, I decided to stop meddling in Frank’s business because it was useless. Little did I know, karma was about to step in and teach Frank a lesson he’d never forget.
It all started when Frank called Ethan last weekend.

A man talking to his father on the phone | Source: Pexels
“There’s a new restaurant near my workplace,” he said. “I was wondering if you and Bella could join me. I’ve heard the food’s quite expensive so I just wanna see if it’s worth the money.”
“Sure, Dad,” Ethan replied. “We’ll be there.”
Two days later, we found ourselves in the restaurant with Frank. It was one of those fancy places where the plates are tiny, the prices are outrageous, and you need a reservation just to get in.

A fancy restaurant | Source: Pexels
“This place looks nice,” I said as I skimmed through the menu. “But wow, it’s pricey.”
“Yeah, it’s super expensive,” Ethan said. “I think I’ll stick with a simple pasta.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “White sauce pasta for me. What about you, Frank?”
Frank was busy scanning the menu, his finger trailing down to the most expensive item.
“I’ll have the lobster,” he grinned.
“A lobster? Really Dad?” Ethan asked. “You’ve never ordered one before.”

A man sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“I know you’d say this,” Frank replied. “But it’s nice to try new things, isn’t it?”
“You’re right, Dad,” Ethan said before calling the waiter.
We placed our orders, but I could tell Frank was gearing up for another one of his stunts.
Soon, our food arrived, and we began eating. However, halfway through the dinner, I noticed Frank staring at his lobster. I couldn’t understand what was happening until he plucked a hair from my head and placed it on his dish.
Yep, Frank had the nerve to do that. I was too stunned to say a word.

An angry woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Then he called the waiter over, feigning disgust.
“There’s a hair in my food,” Frank exclaimed, pushing his seat away from the table as if the hair would fly over to him. “This is unacceptable! I shouldn’t have to pay for this filth!”
What the heck? I thought. How can he even think of doing that?
I was mortified, while Ethan looked like he was about to explode with anger.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” the waiter said. “I’ll let the manager know.”
That’s when karma made its move.

A waiter in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The manager approached our table a few seconds later.
“We’re so sorry for the inconvenience, sir,” he apologized.
I think he was about to offer a complimentary meal when another waiter came over to our table and whispered something in the manager’s ear.
That’s when the manager’s expression changed from apologetic to stone-cold serious. He took a deep breath and said, “Sir, I need to ask you to leave.”
“What? Why should I leave?” Frank protested. “I found hair in my food and you’re kicking me out? Is this how you treat your customers?”

An angry older man | Source: Midjourney
“Sir, I’m asking you to leave because we believe you put the hair in the dish yourself,” the manager said calmly.
I can never forget the look on Frank’s face. Shocked, horrified, and caught off guard, he still tried to argue.
“How dare you accuse me of that!” he yelled at the manager. “I’ll have your job for this!”
By now, the whole restaurant was watching.

People in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“Sir,” the manager began, “one of our staff members recognized you from another restaurant where you pulled the same stunt. We take food safety seriously here and won’t tolerate attempts to defame our business. Please leave, or we will involve the authorities.”
At that point, people around us started whispering among themselves, and some of them were even laughing. Meanwhile, Ethan and I looked at each other, wishing we hadn’t agreed to this dinner.
But it didn’t end there.

A man sitting with his wife in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Frank was at a loss for words and knew he couldn’t do anything to prove the manager wrong. So, he stood up and picked up his coat, preparing to leave.
“And one more thing, sir,” the manager said. “We’re sharing your photo and details with several other high-end restaurants in the area. You’ll no longer be welcome at any of them.”
Frank’s face turned pale as he realized what the manager just said.

An older man in a restaurant, looking shocked | Source: Midjourney
What bothered him more was that the entire restaurant heard him and many of them were laughing at him. At that point, he understood he could no longer pull his cheap stunts to claim free food.
Karma had defeated him.
Frank stormed out of the restaurant without saying another word, while Ethan and I sat there in silence. Once the shock wore off, I couldn’t help but laugh at what just happened.

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
“I never thought I’d see the day!” I said, still laughing. “Frank finally got a taste of his own medicine, and it wasn’t free.”
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe he’ll finally realize that cheating his way through life always has a cost.”
That night, I finally understood how karma works. I couldn’t help but think that sometimes, karma is just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And that moment might be right when you’re about to dig into an overpriced lobster.
Do you agree?

A lobster served in a dish | Source: Pexels
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: My wedding day took a bizarre turn when our videographer pulled me aside with shocking footage. What I saw next would test my new marriage, expose a family’s dark secrets, and leave me questioning everything I thought I knew about love and trust.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher
My 81-year-old grandma started posting selfies on Instagram with heavy filters.

The notification popped up on my phone, another Instagram post from Grandma Rose. I sighed, tapping on the icon. There she was, her face smoothed and airbrushed beyond recognition, a pair of oversized, cartoonish sunglasses perched on her nose. A cascade of digital sparkles rained down around her. The caption read, “Feeling my vibe! #OOTD #YOLO #GrandmaGoals.”
My stomach churned. At first, it had been a novelty, a quirky, endearing quirk of my 81-year-old grandmother. But now, weeks into her social media blitz, it was bordering on unbearable.
It had started innocently enough. She’d asked me to help her set up an Instagram account, intrigued by the photos I’d shown her of my travels and friends. I’d thought it was a sweet way for her to stay connected with the family, a digital scrapbook of sorts.
But Grandma Rose had taken to Instagram like a fish to water, or rather, like a teenager to a viral trend. She’d discovered the world of filters, the power of hashtags, and the allure of online validation. Suddenly, she was posting multiple times a day, each photo more heavily filtered than the last.
The captions were a whole other level of cringe. She’d pepper them with slang I barely understood, phrases like “slay,” “lit,” and “no cap.” She’d even started using emojis, a barrage of hearts, stars, and laughing faces that seemed to clash with her gentle, grandmotherly image.
The pinnacle of my mortification came when she asked me, with wide, earnest eyes, how to do a “get ready with me” video. “You know, darling,” she’d said, her voice brimming with excitement, “like those lovely young ladies on the internet. I want to show everyone my makeup routine!”
I’d choked on my coffee. My makeup routine consisted of moisturizer and a swipe of mascara. Grandma Rose’s “makeup routine” involved a dusting of powder and a dab of lipstick.
The worst part was, my entire family was egging her on. They’d shower her with likes and comments, calling her “amazing,” “inspiring,” and “a social media queen.” They were completely oblivious to my growing dread.
I was trapped in a vortex of secondhand embarrassment. What if my friends saw these posts? What if my coworkers stumbled upon her profile? I could already imagine the whispers, the snickers, the awkward attempts at polite conversation.
I found myself avoiding family gatherings, dreading the inevitable discussions about Grandma Rose’s latest post. I’d scroll through my feed, wincing at each new notification, my finger hovering over the “unfollow” button, a button I couldn’t bring myself to press.
One evening, I found myself sitting across from my mom, the glow of her phone illuminating her face as she scrolled through Grandma Rose’s profile. “Isn’t she just the cutest?” she gushed, showing me a photo of Grandma Rose with a digital halo and angel wings.
“Mom,” I said, my voice strained, “don’t you think this is… a little much?”
My mom looked at me, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? She’s having fun. She’s expressing herself.”
“But it’s not her,” I argued. “It’s like she’s trying to be someone else.”
“She’s adapting, darling,” my mom said, her voice gentle. “She’s embracing technology. She’s living her best life.”
I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument. My family, in their well-meaning attempt to support Grandma Rose, were completely blind to the awkwardness of the situation.
I decided to try a different approach. The next time Grandma Rose asked me for help with her Instagram, I sat down with her and gently explained the concept of “authenticity.” I showed her photos of herself, unfiltered and unedited, her smile genuine, her eyes sparkling with wisdom.
“You’re beautiful just the way you are, Grandma,” I said, my voice sincere. “You don’t need filters or slang to be amazing.”
She looked at the photos, her eyes softening. “Do you really think so, darling?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Absolutely,” I said, squeezing her hand.
Grandma Rose didn’t stop posting, but she did tone it down. The filters became less intense, the captions more genuine. She even started sharing stories from her life, anecdotes that were both heartwarming and hilarious.
And slowly, I began to appreciate her online presence. I realized that it wasn’t about trying to be an influencer; it was about Grandma Rose finding her own way to connect with the world, to express her joy, to simply be herself. And in the end, that was more than enough.
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