A waitress takes action when a man demands his wife pay for his lavish night out with friends

Being a waitress, I’ve seen my fair share of awkward moments. Dates gone wrong, couples arguing over who pays, people sneaking out on the bill. But this? This was something else.

Jack and Lora had been coming to the restaurant for years. They used to split the bill evenly, but lately, something had shifted.

Jack had started letting Lora cover everything. At first, I thought maybe it was a one-time thing. Then, it became a pattern.

Tonight, though, was different. Jack waltzed in with a group of eight rowdy friends, laughing and patting himself on the back. “Drinks are on me, boys!” he shouted, settling into the biggest booth like a king on his throne.

They ordered like there was no tomorrow—steaks, burgers, appetizers, the most expensive whiskey on the menu.

Then Lora arrived, looking hesitant, her fingers twisting the strap of her purse. She sat beside Jack without a word. The whole time, she barely touched her food. I could tell something was off.

When I finally brought the check, Jack barely glanced at it before sliding it across the table to Lora. “Babe, you got this, right?” he said with that same smug grin.

She stiffened. “I told you. I’m not paying this time.”

Jack chuckled like she was joking. “Sure, sure. Just put it on your card, babe.”

She pushed the bill back toward him. “I’m serious, Jack. I’m done paying for you and your friends.”

Jack’s friends were watching now, snickering behind their drinks. One of them nudged him. “Come on, man. Don’t make her beg.”

Jack smirked. “She’s just being dramatic. She makes way more than me. What’s one more bill?”

Lora’s face turned red, and without another word, she stood up and hurried toward the restroom. A few moments later, I heard her voice through the hallway.

“Mom, I can’t do this anymore! He’s been using me for months, and now he expects me to pay for his friends too? He doesn’t even have a job, and I—I just feel so stupid!”

That was it. I couldn’t watch this happen. I took a deep breath, adjusted my apron, and walked right up to Jack’s table.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said sweetly, “I couldn’t help but overhear. Since this is your treat, I just need to confirm how you’ll be paying—cash or card?”

Jack blinked at me like I’d just asked him to recite the alphabet backward. “Uh—”

One of his friends laughed. “Yeah, Jack. How you paying, man?”

Jack looked around, suddenly aware that everyone was watching him. “Uh, well, Lora usually—”

“Oh, Lora left,” I interrupted with a sympathetic smile. “And since the food was consumed at your invitation, that means the responsibility falls on you.”

His face paled. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a few crumpled bills—nowhere near enough to cover the $800 tab.

“Look, I—”

I cut him off with an even bigger smile. “No worries. Since you don’t have enough, we have a special policy for situations like this. See, we have a deal with the local police. Anyone who dines and dashes gets an all-expenses-paid trip to the station.”

Jack’s friends burst into laughter. One of them threw his hands up. “Oh man, I’m not covering for you, bro.”

Another chimed in, “Dude, you really thought you could get away with this?”

Jack’s face turned a deep shade of red. He stood abruptly, knocking over his drink. “Fine! Just give me a second!”

He pulled out his phone and started typing furiously. I had a pretty good guess who he was texting.

Lora returned just in time to see him sweating over his phone. She glanced at the table, at me, at the untouched bill. Then she smiled—really smiled. It was the first genuine expression I’d seen on her all night.

“Problem, Jack?” she asked, her voice light.

Jack’s head shot up. “Lora, you gotta—”

“No, I don’t,” she cut in. “I already canceled our shared accounts. Whatever money you’re trying to access? It’s gone.”

Jack’s face twisted in horror. “Wait, what?”

“I closed them yesterday,” she said. “Took my name off everything. You’re on your own.”

Silence.

Then one of Jack’s friends clapped a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. “Tough break, man.”

The manager arrived moments later, arms crossed. “Jack, either pay up or come with me. I’ve already got the authorities on speed dial.”

Jack stammered, looking around for an escape. But there wasn’t one.

Lora turned to me. “I think I’ll take my meal to go.”

I grinned. “Of course.”

She walked out with her head high, and for the first time, Jack was left to clean up his own mess.