As I headed back toward the door, I saw the waitress nervously wiping down a table, bracing herself for what she thought was coming.
Before leaving, I slipped a folded note into the tip jar along with extra cash, raising the total well above 10%.
The note read: “We all have hard days. I hope yours gets easier. Thank you for your effort.”
I left before she could read it. I didn’t want to embarrass her — I just wanted her to know that one rough moment didn’t define her.
My wife, waiting by the entrance, looked confused but trusted me enough to follow when I motioned for us to leave.
Less than two minutes later, the door burst open behind us. The waitress ran out with tears in her eyes, wrapped her arms around me, and apologized for how she had spoken earlier.
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