I had to do something about it.
My wife Emma recently decided to explore the idea of working in retail, as she thought it would be a perfect fit for her interests.
I had to do something about it.
My wife Emma recently decided to explore the idea of working in retail, as she thought it would be a perfect fit for her interests. She was excited about the prospect and eager to find a position that suited her.
One afternoon, while at the mall, she noticed a well-known lingerie store had a sign outside looking for staff. Thrilled by the opportunity, Emma walked into the store and approached the sales associate to inquire about the job.
However, the saleswoman barely acknowledged her until Emma was standing right in front of her. With a condescending smile, the woman looked her up and down before delivering a cruel and shocking blow: “Look, I don’t think you’re pretty enough for this job. You don’t stand a chance. Don’t even bother.”
Emma came home devastated, shocked by the harsh rejection. Seeing her like that broke my heart. But after the sadness passed, I was filled with anger. How could someone treat my wife like that?
I knew I had to do something—no one, absolutely no one, should be allowed to humiliate Emma like that.
Planning the Perfect Revenge
A few days later, I returned to the lingerie store and made sure the same saleswoman, whose name I now knew was Sophia, was there. This time I was prepared. I dressed sharply and projected confidence and success. When I walked in, Sophia greeted me with a completely different attitude—a fake smile plastered across her face.
“Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you today?” she asked, beaming.
I smiled back charmingly and told her I was looking for a special gift for my wife. Eager to make a sale, Sophia started showing me various items, her demeanor the exact opposite of the cruelty she had shown to Emma.
I listened to her sales pitch, asked questions about quality, materials, and best-sellers, all while holding back my anger.
After about half an hour, I decided it was time to reveal my plan.
“You know,” I said casually, “my wife was here recently. She wanted to apply for a job.”
Sophia’s face went pale as realization hit, but she quickly tried to hide it.
“Oh, really? That’s great,” she said, forcing the smile to stay on her face.
“Yes,” I continued, “but she felt really upset when she came home. Apparently, someone told her she wasn’t ‘pretty enough’ to work here.”
I watched as the color drained from Sophia’s face. She stammered, “Oh, um, I’m not sure who said that… we have very high standards, you know?”
“High standards?” I raised an eyebrow. “Or just shallow ones?”
Sophia was visibly uncomfortable now, her eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. But I wasn’t done yet.
“My wife is beautiful, inside and out, and she didn’t deserve to be treated so horribly. I want to speak to your manager.”
Sweet Justice
The manager, a well-dressed woman named Lisa, arrived promptly, her expression serious as I recounted the entire story—emphasizing how offensive it was and how deeply it had affected Emma. Lisa was horrified.
“I’m so sorry to hear this,” she said sincerely. “We do not tolerate that kind of behavior in our store. Sophia, please come to my office.”
Sophia’s face turned bright red as she followed Lisa to the office. I waited calmly, knowing that justice was being served.
After a few minutes, Lisa returned and apologized profusely, inviting Emma to apply again. “We’ll make sure she has a fair and respectful interview,” Lisa promised.
The Aftermath
When I got home, I told Emma everything. At first, she was hesitant, still hurt by the previous experience, but I encouraged her to give it another shot. After a bit of persuasion, she agreed.
A week later, Emma returned to the store for her interview. This time, she was warmly welcomed by Lisa and the staff. Sophia was nowhere to be found.
Emma got the job, and I made sure to visit her often, always with a proud smile. She blossomed in her new role, her confidence growing with each passing day.
As for Sophia, she was transferred to another branch, far from where we live.
Justice had been served, and Emma and I often laugh about the incident now, grateful for the strength and lessons it brought with it. No one would ever make her feel unworthy again—and I’d always be there to make sure of it.
