One night, my family decided to get takeout from a popular burger joint. My father-in-law (FIL) has always had a bit of a “the world revolves around me” attitude, so I was mentally bracing myself for potential drama. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for him to live up to his reputation.
He ordered four burgers, making a big deal about what toppings he did and didn’t want. The waiter who brought out our food was incredibly polite and attentive, ensuring we had everything we needed.
As soon as the waiter handed us the bag and left, my FIL started rummaging through it. He pulled out one of the burgers and immediately called the waiter back.
“I ordered four burgers. Why are there only three?!” he barked, holding up the bag like it contained evidence of a crime.
The waiter, clearly caught off guard, remained calm. “Sir, I double-checked before bringing it out. I made sure there were four burgers in the bag.”
“Well, you didn’t check well enough!” my FIL snapped. “Are you blind? There are only three here!”
The waiter apologized profusely, even though it was obvious he was confident in his work. “I’m very sorry, sir. I’ll get you another burger right away.”
My FIL smirked triumphantly as the waiter walked away. “That’s how you get what you deserve,” he muttered smugly.
I didn’t say anything, but the whole exchange left a sour taste in my mouth.
The waiter brought out an additional burger, again apologizing for the supposed “mistake.” My FIL waved him off like a king dismissing a servant, and we left with our food.
When we got home and unpacked the bag, my FIL’s face turned white as a sheet. Sitting right there in the bag were *five* burgers—four that had been packed initially, plus the extra one the waiter had brought out.
“Looks like you got a little bonus,” I said, unable to hide the sarcasm in my voice.
My FIL fumbled for words, his confidence evaporating. “Uh… well… I… it’s not my fault! Maybe they made a mistake after all!”
My husband shot him a look. “Dad, you pulled this stunt to get something for free. You owe that waiter an apology—and the restaurant for the extra burger.”
My FIL stammered but didn’t argue. He knew he was caught red-handed.
The next day, I made sure he went back to the restaurant to apologize and pay for the extra burger. The waiter, ever gracious, accepted the apology with a polite smile, but I could see the satisfaction in his eyes.
From that moment on, my FIL thought twice before trying to pull his entitled antics in public. Karma doesn’t always wait long—and in this case, it delivered justice with a side of fries.
