My in-laws had a habit: dine extravagantly, then ditch before the bill arrived. When they invited my mom to a birthday dinner, they assumed she’d be their latest mark. They were wrong.
I tried warning her. “They’ll order lobster and vanish!” But Mom, a retired teacher, just said, “I’ll handle it.”
The night played out predictably—caviar, vintage wine, then the great wallet disappearance. What they didn’t know? The restaurant manager was Mom’s former student.
As they fled, Mom calmly ordered soufflé and let her ex-pupil work his magic. One threatening phone call later, my in-laws returned, red-faced, to settle the $2,000 tab (surcharge included).
Now? They insist on separate checks before even opening the menu. Some lessons are expensive—but priceless.
