YEARS AFTER I GRADUATED, MY SCHOOL BULLIES TRIED TO HUMILIATE ME AT WORK – THEY DIDN’T EXPECT INSTANT KARMA So, picture this: I’m wiping down tables at the restaurant where I work, just going about my business. It’s a small, cozy spot, the kind of place where regulars know your name. I’m pitching in with the cleaning today because Beth, one of our waitresses, is pregnant and felt faint. We’re a tight team—when one of us needs a hand, we all step in. Suddenly, I hear this familiar laugh that just takes me back to high school. I look up, and there she is—Heather, the high school queen bee, with her posse. These were the girls who made my life miserable back then, mocked everything about me. And now? She’s smirking, heading straight for me. “Wow, look who it is. Still wiping down tables, huh? Guess that’s all you ever amounted to.” She laughs, making sure her friends catch every word. “Is this what you dreamed of back in high school? Cleaning up after people who actually did something with their lives?” she sneers, giving me a once-over like I’m something stuck to her shoe. She throws a hand up, snapping her fingers. “Hey, waitress! You think you can at least manage to get us some water? Or is that too advanced for you?” My heart’s racing, and I can feel my face flush, but I keep my cool. The next moment, she regrets it. ⬇️👇


Ever had a moment when the past barges back into your life uninvited? One minute, I’m wiping tables at the restaurant I call home, the next, I’m staring at Heather Parker — my high school tormentor.

Heather walks in, flanked by her usual entourage, her signature laugh slicing through the air. I freeze, but her taunts don’t sting like they used to. I’m not that insecure teenager anymore.

She smirks. “Still wiping tables? Guess that’s all you ever amounted to.” Her friends giggle, feeding off the spectacle.

Before I can respond, Jack, our sous-chef, steps in. “Hey, you don’t talk to her like that.” Maria and Sarah join him, forming an unspoken wall of support.

Heather sneers. “We’ll just speak to your manager.”

I step forward, voice steady. “You already have. I own this place.”

Her smirk falters as the weight of my words sinks in. My team cheers, their loyalty wrapping around me like armor. Heather stammers, but it’s clear — the game’s over.

As she leaves, my heart feels lighter. I’ve won a battle I didn’t know I was still fighting.

Karma? Served with a side of justice.


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