When an entitled customer threw her drink in my face, humiliating me in front of everyone, she assumed I’d just take it quietly. Little did she know, she was in for a surprise—and a lesson she wouldn’t forget.
That morning, I stepped into the health food store, the familiar scent of fresh produce and herbal teas greeting me. It was the start of another day at work, where I’d been earning a living for the past year. As I tied my apron, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different today.
“Hey, Grace! Ready for another thrilling day of juice-making?” my coworker Ally joked from behind the counter.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Yep, gotta keep those entitled customers happy, right?”
But the knot in my stomach told me otherwise. There was one customer who made our jobs miserable every time she came in.
We had dubbed her “Miss Pompous,” and it was a fitting name. She walked in like she owned the place, treating us like we were beneath her.
As I began my shift, I tried to put her out of my mind. I needed this job. It wasn’t just about me—it was about my family. My mom’s medical bills were piling up, and my younger sister was counting on me to help with college expenses. Quitting wasn’t an option.
A few minutes later, Ally leaned in close. “Heads up,” she whispered. “Miss Pompous just pulled into the parking lot.”
My stomach dropped. “Great,” I muttered. “Just what I needed to start my day.”
The bell above the door chimed, and in she walked, her designer heels clicking like a countdown to disaster. Without even acknowledging me, she strutted up to the counter and barked her order.
“Carrot juice. Now.”
I forced a smile. “Of course, ma’am. Coming right up.”
As I worked, I could feel her eyes on me, scrutinizing my every move. My hands began to shake under the pressure. Finally, I handed her the juice.
She took one sip and her face twisted in disgust. “What is this watered-down garbage?” she screeched. Before I could react, she hurled the entire drink at my face.
The cold juice splashed across my cheeks, dripping down my chin. I stood there, stunned, as she continued to rant. “Are you trying to poison me?” she demanded.
I blinked, wiping juice from my eyes. “It’s the same recipe we always use,” I stammered.
“Make it again,” she snapped. “And this time, use your brain.”
My face burned with humiliation as everyone in the store turned to watch. Tears threatened to spill, but I refused to let her see me cry.
Just then, my manager, Mr. Weatherbee, appeared. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, though his concern seemed more for the loss of a customer than for me.
Miss Pompous turned on him. “Your employee can’t even make a simple juice! I demand a refund and a replacement.”
To my disbelief, Mr. Weatherbee began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. We’ll remake your juice immediately, free of charge.” Then he turned to me. “Grace, be more careful next time.”
I stood there, dumbfounded. My jaw dropped. “But sir, I—”
“Just get the carrots, Grace,” he interrupted, “and remake the juice.”
Miss Pompous smirked at me, clearly enjoying my humiliation. I felt a surge of anger. For a split second, I wanted to throw my apron down and walk out. But then I thought of my mom and sister—I couldn’t afford to lose this job.
So, I took a deep breath and made a decision. I wasn’t going to let her win.
I met Miss Pompous’s gaze, refusing to be intimidated. She thought she could buy respect with her money, that she could trample over people without consequences. Well, not this time.
As Mr. Weatherbee walked away, I reached into the fridge, bypassing the usual carrots. Instead, I grabbed the biggest, gnarliest one I could find. It was tough and unwieldy, perfect for what I had in mind.
“Just a moment,” I said, sweetly, as I fed the oversized carrot into the juicer. The machine groaned in protest before spraying juice everywhere—across the counter, the floor, and best of all, onto Miss Pompous’s designer handbag.
She shrieked, snatching her bag and frantically trying to wipe off the bright orange juice. “My bag!” she cried. “You stupid girl! Look what you’ve done!”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry, ma’am,” I said, struggling to keep a straight face. “It was an accident, I swear.”
Her face turned beet red. “You ruined my three-thousand-dollar purse! I want your manager!”
Trying not to laugh, I gestured vaguely toward the store. “I think he’s helping a customer over there.”
As she stomped off in search of Mr. Weatherbee, I ducked into the stockroom to hide my smile. From my hiding spot, I watched as she stormed out, still clutching her dripping bag, leaving a trail of carrot juice in her wake.
I thought it was over, but I knew Miss Pompous wasn’t the type to let things go.
Sure enough, the next morning, she burst into the store, demanding to see the owner. When Mr. Larson, the kind, older man who owned the store, came out, she launched into a tirade, insisting I be fired and demanding compensation for her ruined purse.
Calmly, Mr. Larson replied, “Let’s check the security footage.”
My heart skipped a beat. I had completely forgotten about the cameras.
We gathered around the monitor as the footage played, showing Miss Pompous throwing juice in my face and the “accident” with her purse. The room fell silent.
Mr. Larson turned to her. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you any compensation. What I see here is an assault on my employee. If anyone should be considering legal action, it’s us.”
Miss Pompous sputtered in disbelief. “But… my purse!”
“I suggest you leave,” Mr. Larson said firmly. “And don’t come back.”
With one final glare, Miss Pompous stormed out.
Once she was gone, Mr. Larson turned to me, his eyes twinkling. “That was just an accident, right, Grace?”
“Of course, sir,” I said with a grin. “Why would I intentionally ruin a customer’s belongings?”
He chuckled and walked away. Ally gave me a high five. “You stood up to her, Grace! You showed her who’s boss.”
That night, as I shared the story with my mom and sister, I realized something important: standing up for myself hadn’t just put Miss Pompous in her place—it reminded me of my own worth.
Have you ever had to deal with someone like Miss Pompous? Share your stories in the comments. Together, we can take on the “Karens” of the world!
Drake Hogestyn: Career, cause of death and final episode
When I was a teenager during the summertime, I used to watch Days of Our Lives.
The long-running series has showcased many vibrant characters over the years, and Drake Hogestyn was undoubtedly one of the most memorable.
Now we mourn the loss of this beloved star, who passed away just one day shy of his 71st birthday.
Donald Drake Hogestyn, known to many as John Black from Days of Our Lives, left an indelible mark on the world of daytime television.
After an incredible 38 years and nearly 4,300 episodes on the iconic show, his passing just one day before his 71st birthday has left fans heartbroken.
Born in 1953 in Fort Wayne, Indiana, Hogestyn was destined for greatness from a young age, with a father who hailed from New York and a devoted mother who nurtured his talents.
Hogestyn’s journey to stardom began in the 1980s when he ventured into acting with Columbia Pictures. In a talent search that attracted 75,000 hopefuls, he emerged as one of just 30 selected, securing a significant role in the prime-time series Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.
Drafted by Yankees
However, what many fans might not know is that before he captivated audiences on screen, Hogestyn was a promising baseball player who had even been drafted by the New York Yankees. As a skilled third baseman in their minor league system, it seemed he was on the path to playing at Yankee Stadium. Yet, an unexpected injury shattered those dreams, steering him toward a different kind of spotlight.
In 1986, Hogestyn made his mark on Days of Our Lives, first appearing as a mysterious character known as “The Pawn.”
Audiences were excited, and Hogestyn quickly became a fan favorite, transforming into the iconic John Black. Over the years, he navigated dramatic storylines filled with amnesia, espionage, and intense relationships, making him one of the most recognizable faces in daytime television.
His on-screen romance with longtime co-star Deidre Hall, known for her portrayal of Marlena, became a defining element of the series and established them as a true supercouple on daytime television.
Hogestyn’s talent earned him numerous nominations for Soap Opera Digest Awards, with multiple wins for Favorite Hero and Favorite Couple alongside Hall.
Why was he fired?
In 2008, fans were stunned when it was announced that Hogestyn and Hall had been let go from Days of Our Lives due to budget cuts. However, the demand for their return was undeniable, and they rejoined the show a few years later, much to the delight of their devoted fans. Tragically, Hogestyn made his final appearance on the soap on September 9, 2024, just weeks before his passing.
Drake and his wife, Victoria, shared a deep love that began when he was just 15 years old and she was only 12. ”We were meant to be,” he once said in an interview, capturing the essence of their enduring bond. They married in 1986, the same year Hogestyn joined Days of Our Lives, and together they raised four children.
Cause of death
Sadly, Drake Hogestyn’s life came to an end due to pancreatic cancer on September 28, 2024, in Los Angeles.
His family announced the news with heavy hearts, saying, ”He was thrown the curveball of his life when he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, but he faced the challenge with incredible strength and determination. After putting up an unbelievable fight, he passed peacefully surrounded by loved ones.”
As we remember Drake Hogestyn, we celebrate the joy and inspiration he brought into our lives, both through his unforgettable performances and the love he shared with his family. He will forever remain a cherished part of television history and in the hearts of his fans.
My condolences to his family, friends, coworkers and fans! Rest in peace, Drake!
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