Customer Mocked Me Because I Work as a Cashier at the Grocery Store — Moments Later Karma Took Revenge for Me

Erin’s life changes completely when her husband’s affair is revealed. In a turn of events, she loses her job and takes the role of a cashier at the local grocery store. Everything is fine until an entitled customer comes into the store, forcing Erin to keep calm and professional.

My life took a complete turn at 38 years old. I’m a mother to three kids: Emma (15), Jack (9), and Sophie (7), and I’ve gone from being a project manager at a mid-sized tech company while raising my children to working in a grocery store.

Freezers in a grocery store | Source: Pexels

Freezers in a grocery store | Source: Pexels

This is what happened.

The first cracks came in gradually, all stemming from James, my husband.

“James, are you coming to bed?” I asked one night as he sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV.

A man sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

A man sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

“In a bit,” he muttered, not looking up. “Just need to finish this.”

“Finish what? The TV’s off.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, before lying flat.

“Work stuff, Erin. Can we not do this right now?”

A man lying flat on a couch | Source: Pexels

A man lying flat on a couch | Source: Pexels

I could sense something was wrong, but amidst the chaos of work and family, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Then, one devastating evening, I discovered the truth. James had been having an affair.

“How could you do this to us?” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “To the kids?”

A silhouette of a couple | Source: Pexels

A silhouette of a couple | Source: Pexels

James looked down, unable to meet my gaze.

“I’m sorry, Erin. I never meant for it to get this far.”

The stress from the divorce piled onto the already immense pressure at work. My job’s demands became unbearable as I tried to navigate the emotional wreckage of my home.

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

The focus and sharpness I once prided myself on were slipping away, and I struggled to keep up with the relentless pace of my job.

“Erin, I need those reports by the end of the day,” my manager, Lisa, reminded me gently. “I know things are tough right now, but we need to stay on track.”

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Unsplash

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Unsplash

“I’m trying, Lisa,” I replied, my voice shaky. “It’s just… everything is falling apart.”

And it all became too much. Lisa, though sympathetic to my situation, was left with no choice when my productivity plummeted.

A woman looking at her laptop and holding her head | Source: Pexels

A woman looking at her laptop and holding her head | Source: Pexels

“Erin, we have to let you go,” Lisa said, her eyes full of regret. “I tried to keep you, but my hands were tied on this one. I’m so sorry.”

Losing my job felt like the final blow in a series of relentless hardships. The financial strain only added to the emotional burden of my divorce.

A woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

A woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

I knew that I had to find another job quickly to support my children, but the job market was tough, and positions that matched my qualifications and previous salary were few and far between.

“Will we be okay?” Emma asked me one morning as I buttered toast for her and her siblings.

Buttered toast on a plate | Source: Midjourney

Buttered toast on a plate | Source: Midjourney

“We will,” I said. “We will be just fine. I have an interview today, and it’s going to be the right match for us. I promise, darling. Don’t you worry about us.”

“But I am worried, Mom,” Emma said, taking a bite of toast. “I don’t want to live with Dad.”

A teenage girl | Source: Pexels

A teenage girl | Source: Pexels

My heart ached. I couldn’t let them down.

Desperation led me to apply for a cashier position at a local grocery store.

“Look, I know it’s not what you’re used to, Erin,” the manager, Mr. Adams, told me. “But this job is stable. We can offer you stability and a steady income.”

A person holding a contract | Source: Pexels

A person holding a contract | Source: Pexels

“I know,” I agreed. “It’s just that I have three children to care for, too.”

“I understand,” he said. “We can look at a raise in three months.”

A cashier at a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

A cashier at a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

The change was difficult, but it allowed me to be there for my children in a way that I hadn’t been able to before. The predictable hours meant I could attend school events, help with homework, and tuck my kids into bed every night.

“I like this, Mom,” Sophie said as I tucked her into bed. “You’re not always with your laptop.”

A little girl tucked in bed | Source: Pexels

A little girl tucked in bed | Source: Pexels

“I agree,” Jack said from his corner of the room. “Mom’s always here now.”

But as always, despite things seeming positive in one way, life was always going to throw curveballs my way.

A little boy sitting on the bed | Source: Pexels

A little boy sitting on the bed | Source: Pexels

Yesterday was different. A mother with two teenage children came into our supermarket. She was dressed in expensive designer clothes, as were her two children.

When she came to the register, I started ringing up her groceries in an autopilot mode. I was tired and just wanted the day to be over. I wanted to get home for pizza night with my kids.

A woman wearing expensive clothes | Source: Pexels

A woman wearing expensive clothes | Source: Pexels

“What’s with the face, dear? Why aren’t you smiling at your customers?” she asked me, tapping her long nails on the counter.

I had been working all day and I had forgotten to plaster a smile across my face.

“I’m sorry,” I said to her, taking things out of the cart.

A full shopping cart | Source: Midjourney

A full shopping cart | Source: Midjourney

Then I smiled at her and continued to do my job.

But, of course, it didn’t end there.

“I’d have that face too, if I worked here. Your face looks mean because you don’t earn enough. That’s why you’re miserable.”

A close-up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

The other customers in the line looked shocked, while I became red from the embarrassment.

I wasn’t embarrassed by my job; I was grateful for it. But it was her ugly comment that made me want to curl into a ball.

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels

Just as I handed her the last bag, she screamed loudly when one of her kids bumped into the cart, still holding onto his iPhone. The cart tipped over, spilling all the groceries onto the floor with a loud bang, followed by glass shattering.

Expensive bottles of wine were spilling onto our floor, soaking through the artisan bread and gourmet cheese.

Bottles of wine on display | Source: Unsplash

Bottles of wine on display | Source: Unsplash

The woman’s face turned bright red as she snapped at her child, humiliated.

“Michael! Watch what you’re doing! You clumsy idiot!” she shrieked.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he muttered, pocketing his phone and looking around.

A teenage boy | Source: Pexels

A teenage boy | Source: Pexels

I quickly bent down to help pick up the undamaged items, maintaining my composure.

“It’s alright, accidents happen,” I said softly, while the other customers watched the scene unfold.

Mr. Adams approached as the woman and her children scrambled to gather their things.

A man wearing a uniform | Source: Unsplash

A man wearing a uniform | Source: Unsplash

“Ma’am,” he said politely. “It seems you might need some help. We can replace the broken items, but you’ll need to pay for them.”

The woman, now visibly flustered, handed me her credit card with a huff.

“There,” she said.

I swiped it, but the transaction was declined. I tried again, but the result was the same.

A person holding a card | Source: Pexels

A person holding a card | Source: Pexels

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your card has been declined,” I said, trying to remain as professional as possible, but my insides were doing cartwheels as karma dished it out for the woman.

“That’s impossible,” she said. “This must be a mistake. I’ll call someone to sort this out.”

She dialed a number and put the phone to her ear, but there was no answer. She tried again, and again, but the person on the other end did not respond.

An angry woman | Source: Unsplash

An angry woman | Source: Unsplash

The growing line of customers behind her began to murmur and exchange looks, some shaking their heads in disbelief, while others grew impatient.

Mrs. Jenkins, a regular customer, stepped forward with her bread and milk, ready to join another line.

“Looks like karma has its own way of working things out,” she said with a smirk. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before being so rude to others.”

Milk and bread in a shopping basket | Source: Midjourney

Milk and bread in a shopping basket | Source: Midjourney

With no way to pay and no one answering her calls, the woman was forced to wait in the store.

“I can get you a chair, ma’am,” Mr. Adams offered.

“No. I’m fine,” she said stiffly at the end of my counter, clearly mortified.

She waited for at least over an hour, her children sitting sullenly nearby, the humiliation palpable.

A woman holding her head | Source: Unsplash

A woman holding her head | Source: Unsplash

“Can’t we call a cab and go home?” the daughter whined. “My phone battery is about to die and I have things to do.”

The woman rolled her eyes.

“Enough, Gemma,” she said. “I don’t care what you need to do. We will wait for your father.”

A teenage girl | Source: Unsplash

A teenage girl | Source: Unsplash

Soon enough, the father showed up, looking important in his suit. Immediately, he turned his anger on his kids.

“How could you be so careless? Do you know how much this is going to cost?” his voice echoed. “No allowances for you both.”

“And you,” he said, turning to his wife. “Can’t you manage a simple shopping trip without causing a scene? This is why I told you to leave it up to the cook.”

The entire store watched as he berated them. He gave me his card and nodded to me.

A person holding a card | Source: Pexels

A person holding a card | Source: Pexels

“Make it quick, please,” he said. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

When I was done, he grabbed the bags and stormed out of the store, not waiting for his family to follow.

“You handled that with grace, Erin,” Mr. Adams said. “Go on, get your things and get home to your kids.”

I intended to, a pizza party awaited me.

Trays of homemade pizza | Source: Midjourney

Trays of homemade pizza | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

We Played a Game Answering Calls and Texts with Family on Thanksgiving — I Accidentally Exposed My Husband’s Second Family

What started as a playful Thanksgiving game turned into Mary’s worst nightmare. When a mysterious text on her husband Emmett’s phone mentioned a daughter she’d never heard of, Mary’s world spiraled. Her investigation uncovers a shocking double life—a second family, complete with a wife and teenage daughter.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. There’s something magical about gathering the people you love the most, laughing over turkey and stuffing and spilled gravy, and sharing stories that never seem to grow old.

This year, my family decided to try something a little different: a phone game we’d seen in a movie.

A Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

A Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

The rules were simple.

Everyone placed their phones in the center of the table, and whenever one buzzed, the person whose turn it was would answer or read the message aloud. It sounded harmless and hilarious, and you know, just a way to spice up the evening.

My husband, Emmett, and I have been married for 25 years. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with salt-and-pepper hair and a charming smile that’s disarmed me since the day we met on our college campus.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I’ve been a little plain compared to him, with my curly brown hair that rarely cooperates and a fondness for sweaters that my kids tease me about.

Emmett, with his tailored shirts and polished shoes, always seemed to be the one who turned heads.

That night, the table was buzzing with energy as we piled our phones into the center and took turns reading texts aloud. When Emmett’s phone buzzed during my turn, I grabbed it with a laugh, expecting something mundane, like a work email or a reminder about a bill.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Instead, the screen displayed a message that made my blood run cold.

Don’t forget, on Thursday, we’re moving Eliza’s things for her performance. Excited for our daughter’s premiere, Em!

I froze.

Daughter?

A lit screen on a phone | Source: Midjourney

A lit screen on a phone | Source: Midjourney

We didn’t have a daughter named Eliza. There was no performance on Thursday, nor any premieres that I knew of. I stared at the message, my stomach churning.

But everyone was watching, waiting for me to share the text. My palms were sweating, and my pulse was racing. I wanted to scream.

Thinking fast, I scrolled to an older, innocuous text about a phone bill and read it aloud instead.

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

“Looks like we need to update the plan on this number, babe,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Damn, I was hoping Emmett would get something juicy!” his brother, Jacob, laughed.

The table laughed together for a moment, and the game continued, but I was spiraling inside.

A man sitting at a table and laughing | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting at a table and laughing | Source: Midjourney

Why would Emmett be so careless? I remembered him fumbling with his phone earlier, mumbling something about needing to call a client.

“I’ll be back in a second, Mary. I just need to sort this out quickly—it’s about a meeting for next week. Plate up for the kids though,” he had said.

At the time, I hadn’t thought twice. Maybe he’d been too distracted to realize how risky this game was.

A man using his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man using his phone | Source: Midjourney

That night, I barely slept. Every single time I closed my eyes, I saw the words from that text.

Daughter? Performance?

My mind raced with so many questions. Who was Eliza? What was Emmett hiding?

Who was Emmett hiding?

And why?

A woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, while Emmett was out walking Lila, our dog, before heading off to work, I found the address attached to the follow-up text message. It was all the details about the performance.

Picking up my notebook, I took down the address and the number belonging to a woman named Alice.

Then, I got into my car and punched it in. According to my GPS, the address led to a school theater in a nearby town. I didn’t want to drive there — not yet.

A notebook and phone on a table | Source: Midjourney

A notebook and phone on a table | Source: Midjourney

But soon, I’d know the truth. Thursday would come. Soon.

Instead, I went to work.

I felt beyond ridiculous pulling into the parking lot on Thursday evening, but curiosity and suspicion firmly had their claws in me. Inside the theater, the dim lights illuminated a stage where a teenage girl, around 16, was performing a ballet solo.

A girl performing a ballet routine | Source: Midjourney

A girl performing a ballet routine | Source: Midjourney

She had long, dark hair tied back in a neat bun, and her confidence radiated from the stage.

My breath caught when the music stopped, and she bowed. She looked just like Emmett.

In the audience, I spotted him sitting beside a woman holding a bouquet of flowers. They both looked proud, their smiles glowing as they watched their girl perform.

As if I could hear it, my heart cracked open in my chest.

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

When the performance ended and Emmett stepped away, I forced myself to approach the woman. My legs felt like lead, but my voice was steady when I spoke.

“Hello, I’m Emmett’s wife, Mary,” I said.

Her face went pale immediately, the color drained from her face before I could blink.

“Excuse me, what?” she gasped.

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

It turns out that this was Alice, and she and Emmett had been married for 20 years.

20 years.

She had no idea about me or our family.

“He told me that work was demanding, Mary. He made it known when we met years ago. I didn’t question it because a job is a job, and it’s important, you know? I also wasn’t working at the time, so Emmett was supporting me. How could I question his job when I didn’t have one?”

I was silent for a moment.

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney

“He said that the holidays were the worst for him. I never thought to question it.”

Neither had I.

Whenever Emmett mentioned work or business meetings, I didn’t ask anything beyond where he was staying and when he’d be back. Then, I would help him pack his clothes and pack enough snacks for his trip.

Look at my life now…

Containers of food on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Containers of food on a counter | Source: Midjourney

The next day, Alice and I met at a coffee shop. We pieced together Emmett’s double life over matcha lattes neither of us finished.

We learned that he had been moving Alice and their daughter, Eliza, closer to his “primary residence” while claiming work required him to travel frequently.

He’d built two entire lives — one with me and our three children, and another with Alice and Eliza.

Lattes on a table | Source: Midjourney

Lattes on a table | Source: Midjourney

Alice was petite with short, caramel-colored hair and kind eyes, but there was an edge of hurt and anger in her gaze that mirrored my own.

I could see her hesitation when we first sat down, as if she wasn’t sure whether to trust me.

“I almost didn’t come, Mary,” she admitted. “I wasn’t sure if you were part of this… scheme. I know it sounds so bad, but nothing feels real anymore.”

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

I sighed, nodding.

“I understand exactly what you mean,” I said. “But trust me, I’ve been in the dark as much as you… Do you know that last night, when I sat across from him at dinner, he looked so unfamiliar? It was like I hadn’t seen him before.”

She nodded.

“But I think we both deserve answers and justice.”

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

She nodded again, and from that moment, Alice and I were allies.

Over the next few weeks, Alice and I stayed in touch, sharing more details and uncovering more lies than we had ever thought possible.

We realized that we weren’t just two victims of Emmett’s deceit — we were the heads of two families connected by his betrayal.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“The most difficult part is coming, Mary,” Alice told me on the phone one day.

“I know. Telling the kids is going to be… devastating.”

And sure enough, getting our kids involved was the hardest part. My grown children — Mark, 23, Cami, 21, and Jenelle, 18 — were furious and confused.

Jenelle cried for days; suddenly, she wasn’t the last born. Suddenly, she wasn’t the apple of her father’s eye.

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

Mark paced the living room, constantly cursing Emmett’s name. Cami was the only one who remained nonchalant.

“What do you want me to say, Mom?” she asked when I went into her bedroom to check on her. “The others have always been closer to Dad. I’m just the middle child.”

“I want you to tell me how you feel, darling,” I said.

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t… care. It’s disgusting that he did this to you and Alice. What self-respecting man does this to two women? Two families? I don’t care what he does, but he’s not my father anymore.”

Alice’s daughter, Eliza, was blindsided, and her teenage world came crumbling down at her feet. It turned out that she and Emmett were really close. She couldn’t take the heartbreak when she discovered the truth.

Eventually, after long conversations and reassurances, we convinced the kids to join us for a joint “celebration” under the guise of blending families.

A nonchalant young woman | Source: Midjourney

A nonchalant young woman | Source: Midjourney

Emmett arrived at the restaurant, unaware of what awaited him. When he stepped into the room, his confident stride faltered. His face twisted as his gaze darted between me, Alice, and our children, all standing together.

“Your deceit ends today, Emmett. We all deserve better. You’re pathetic.”

Emmett stammered, his usual charisma failing him for once.

“I can… explain,” he began.

The interior of a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“No, you’re a horrible excuse for a father and husband, and we’re not interested in your excuses,” Mark said.

Emmett sputtered, attempting to spin a tale about “complicated feelings” and wanting to “keep everyone happy,” but the united strength of both families left him speechless.

In the weeks that followed, Alice and I worked together to untangle the mess Emmett left behind. We sought legal counsel to address any and all financial matters, ensuring our families’ futures were secure.

A lawyer sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney

A lawyer sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney

Unsurprisingly, Emmett tried to fight back. He claimed he’d acted out of love and that it was fine to love more than one person. But honestly, going the legal route was the best we could have done. His bank statements, travel logs, and more left him with little ground to stand on.

Ultimately, he slunk away, defeated.

My kids struggled to process the betrayal—Cami too, although she pretended she was fine. I spent many sleepless nights sitting on my window seat, questioning everything I thought I knew.

A man standing in a hallway with suitcases | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a hallway with suitcases | Source: Midjourney

Therapy helped a bit, as did Alice’s support. Eliza and Jenelle worked through their pain together. Over time, Alice and I built a strong friendship — one silver lining in an otherwise dark cloud.

Our children, despite the strange circumstances, began forming sibling-like bonds. They leaned on each other, finding strength in their shared pain.

Thanksgiving will never be the same.

But we’ve created new traditions, ones rooted in honesty and mutual respect. Emmett’s betrayal shattered our families, but in the aftermath, we found something unexpected: a new family.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

Greg thought he and Natalie had figured out the whole co-parenting thing — until a late-night phone call shattered that illusion with news he never saw coming.

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.

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