Entitled Hotel Guest Mocked My Mom Who Works as a Maid, so She Taught Her Never to Mess with Housekeeping Again

Entitled Hotel Guest Mocked My Mom Who Works as a Maid, so She Taught Her Never to Mess with Housekeeping Again

When a devoted hotel maid is tormented by a wealthy and arrogant guest, she devises a plan that turns the tables in the most unexpected way. Instead of seeking revenge with anger, she orchestrates a quiet but powerful act of defiance that forces the cruel woman to face the bitter consequences of her actions.

Woman cleaning a hotel room | Source: Pexels

Woman cleaning a hotel room | Source: Pexels

My mother has always been a source of inspiration for me. As a maid at a fancy local hotel, she takes immense pride in her work. She treats every room as if it were her own, ensuring everything is spotless and welcoming for the guests.

Recently, however, she had an encounter that tested her patience like never before. It all started on a seemingly ordinary day. My mother was assigned to clean room 256, which was occupied by a young woman named Ms. Johnson.

Woman in uniform beside hotel room bed | Source: Pexels

Woman in uniform beside hotel room bed | Source: Pexels

From the moment she stepped into the room, my mother could sense the woman’s dislike for her. Ms. Johnson lounged on the bed, scrolling through her phone, barely acknowledging my mother’s presence.

As my mother meticulously cleaned the room, making sure every surface was spotless, Ms. Johnson suddenly knocked her coffee cup off the table, sending dark liquid spilling onto the freshly mopped floor. She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she looked my mother straight in the eye and sneered, “Clean that up!”

Coffee mug falling | Source: Pexels

Coffee mug falling | Source: Pexels

My mother’s heart sank. She had worked so hard to make the room perfect, only to see her efforts so carelessly undone. But she knew she couldn’t afford to lose her job. It provided her with a sense of independence and stability for our family.

A person vacuuming a rug | Source: Pexels

A person vacuuming a rug | Source: Pexels

Swallowing her pride, she silently cleaned the floor again, all while feeling Ms. Johnson’s piercing gaze on her. As she worked, the woman laughed. The mocking giggle echoed through the room. “Well done for a maid. You didn’t even talk back to me,” she taunted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tomorrow, I’ll come up with something more interesting for you.”

Woman standing near table with pastries | Source: Pexels

Woman standing near table with pastries | Source: Pexels

My mother finished her task, holding back tears. She knew showing any sign of distress would only give the woman more satisfaction. That night, as she recounted the story to me, I could see the hurt in her eyes. But there was also a spark of determination. She wasn’t going to let this entitled guest break her spirit.

Mother and daughter sitting at the table holding hands | Source: Pexels

Mother and daughter sitting at the table holding hands | Source: Pexels

The next day, my mother went to work with a plan. She knew Ms. Johnson would try to humiliate her again, but this time, she was ready. She was determined to show this woman that kindness and respect were not weaknesses and that underestimating the resolve of someone who works with dignity and pride was a grave mistake.

Woman holding a plastic basin with cleaning materials | Source: Pexels

Woman holding a plastic basin with cleaning materials | Source: Pexels

Around mid-morning, my mother walked into room 256 with a steely determination. She had a plan. Sure enough, there she was, Ms. Johnson, reclining on the bed, her smirk already in place.

“Oh, look who’s back,” Ms. Johnson said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Let’s see what mess I can make for you today.” She reached for her coffee cup, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Woman leaning on handrail in a hotel room | Source: Pexels

Woman leaning on handrail in a hotel room | Source: Pexels

My mother kept her composure. She knew what to expect. Without a word, she began her cleaning routine, methodically and efficiently, refusing to rise to the bait. As she moved around the room, she noticed something important: Ms. Johnson’s laptop was left open on the table, the screen glowing with unattended work.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” my mother said in her most polite tone. “I need to dust the table. Would you mind closing your laptop?”

Person using phone with laptop on desk | Source: Pexels

Person using phone with laptop on desk | Source: Pexels

Ms. Johnson huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she muttered, snapping the laptop shut and placing it to the side with an exaggerated sigh. “But hurry up. I have important work to do.”

“Of course, ma’am,” my mother replied, her voice steady.

Woman relaxing in a hotel room | Source: Pexels

Woman relaxing in a hotel room | Source: Pexels

“You’re slower than yesterday,” Ms. Johnson remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do they not teach speed in maid school?” My mother ignored the jab, focusing on her task.

Ms. Johnson’s impatience was palpable, and she drummed her fingers on the bedside table. “Done yet?” Ms. Johnson snapped.

Woman tiding up a hotel room | Source: Pexels

Woman tiding up a hotel room | Source: Pexels

“Almost, ma’am,” my mother replied calmly.

Just then, the door opened, and Mr. Ramirez, the hotel manager, appeared. He glanced around the room, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. “Good morning, Ms. Johnson,” he greeted her warmly.

“I trust everything is to your satisfaction?”

Hotel manager entering a room | Source: Pexels

Hotel manager entering a room | Source: Pexels

Ms. Johnson scoffed. “It’s fine. Your maid here is just clumsy and slow.”

Mr. Ramirez frowned slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that. Our staff is trained to provide excellent service.”

“Well, maybe she needs more training,” Ms. Johnson said, casting a disdainful look at my mother.

Mr. Ramirez turned to my mother, concern evident in his eyes. “Mrs. Adams, is there a problem?”

My mother met his gaze with her calm and professional demeanor. “No, Mr. Ramirez. Everything is under control.”

A chambermaid holding a stack of towels | Source: Pexels

A chambermaid holding a stack of towels | Source: Pexels

Mr. Ramirez nodded, though his concern lingered. “Ms. Johnson, I assure you, we will make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible.”

Ms. Johnson waved dismissively. “Just make sure she doesn’t break anything.”

Mr. Ramirez gave my mother an encouraging smile before leaving. As the door closed behind him, my mother felt a surge of quiet confidence. She was ready for whatever Ms. Johnson had in store next.

Woman fixing pillows on the bed | Source: Pexels

Woman fixing pillows on the bed | Source: Pexels

My mother continued her work, but she had one more trick up her sleeve. She knew Ms. Johnson would never learn unless she experienced a bit of discomfort herself.

As she finished cleaning, my mother subtly dropped a small, harmless but unpleasant-smelling packet under the bed. It was a trick she had learned from an old colleague, a mixture that would release a gradually intensifying odor over time. It wasn’t immediately noticeable, but within a few hours, it would become quite bothersome.

A tidy hotel room | Source: Pexels

A tidy hotel room | Source: Pexels

“All done, ma’am,” my mother said standing up and gathering her cleaning supplies. “Have a pleasant day.”

The next morning, my mother arrived at work and was immediately greeted by the sight of Ms. Johnson in the lobby, furiously arguing with Mr. Ramirez. Her face was flushed with anger, and her voice carried through the lobby.

Man and woman standing in a hotel lobby | Source: Pexels

Man and woman standing in a hotel lobby | Source: Pexels’

“I can’t stay in that room! It smells awful! How can you expect guests to stay in such conditions?” Ms. Johnson was practically shouting, drawing the attention of other guests and staff members.

Mr. Ramirez, ever the professional, maintained his calm demeanor. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Ms. Johnson. We take such matters very seriously. We’ll investigate the cause of the smell immediately and move you to another room in the meantime.”

Two people standing at a hotel entrance | Source: Pexels

Two people standing at a hotel entrance | Source: Pexels

Ms. Johnson, still fuming, stormed off, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. Mr. Ramirez turned to my mother, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold.

“Mrs. Adams, could you please check Ms. Johnson’s room and see if you can find the source of the smell?” he asked, his voice calm but concerned. “Of course,” my mother replied, hiding a smile. She headed to room 256, her heart pounding with satisfaction.

A clean hotel room | Source: Unsplash

A clean hotel room | Source: Unsplash

Inside the room, my mother quickly found the packet she had placed under the bed and discreetly removed it. She then opened the windows and turned on the fan, allowing fresh air to circulate and clear the odor. As she worked, she couldn’t help but feel a small surge of triumph. Ms. Johnson had finally tasted a bit of her own medicine.

Woman carrying a stack of towers | Source: Pexels

Woman carrying a stack of towers | Source: Pexels’

As she left the room, she ran into Mr. Ramirez in the hallway. “Did you find the source of the smell?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Ramirez,” my mother replied. “It seems something had been left under the bed. I’ve removed it and aired out the room. It should be fine now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Adams,” Mr. Ramirez said, a hint of relief in his voice. “You’ve done an excellent job, as always.”

Hotel worker doing room service | Source: Pexels

Hotel worker doing room service | Source: Pexels

My mother nodded and continued with her day, knowing that sometimes, justice is served in the smallest of actions. But that wasn’t enough. My mom had one more lesson to teach Ms. Johnson.

The next day, she was assigned to help move Ms. Johnson’s belongings to another room. As usual, Mom did her job efficiently, ensuring every item was carefully placed in the new room.

Delivery man holding a cardboard box | Source: Pexels

Delivery man holding a cardboard box | Source: Pexels

Later that afternoon, a courier arrived with a package for room 256; Ms. Johnson’s previous room. Aware that Ms. Johnson had moved to room 312, Mom saw this as her chance to deliver a delayed but impactful lesson.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said to the courier, stepping forward with a polite smile. “The guest in room 256 has been moved to room 312. You can leave the package at the front desk, and I will ensure it gets to her.” The courier nodded, handing over the package. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” he said, already turning to leave.

A  person holding a package | Source: Pexels

A person holding a package | Source: Pexels

My mother took the package to the front desk and, with a smile, placed it in the corner behind some other deliveries, making sure it would not be found immediately.

The next day, Ms. Johnson was in a frenzy. She was preparing for her flight and an important event later that evening. Suddenly, she realized something crucial was missing. She frantically called the front desk, her voice shaking with panic.

An angry woman in aa grey tank top | Source: Pexels

An angry woman in aa grey tank top | Source: Pexels

“I had a package delivered to room 256. Where is it? It has my plane tickets and my dress for tonight’s event!” Ms. Johnson’s voice was a mix of anger and desperation.

The front desk clerk, taken aback by her intensity, quickly checked the records. After some confusion and a hurried search, they found the package tucked away in the corner. The clerk immediately called my mother to deliver it to Ms. Johnson’s new room, 312.

Receptionist making a phone call | Source: Pexels

Receptionist making a phone call | Source: Pexels

My mother, with a calm and measured pace, made her way to the room. She knocked on Ms. Johnson’s door, her expression serene. The woman yanked the door open, her eyes wide with anxiety. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for that package!” she snapped.

“Here is your package, ma’am. It was delivered to the wrong room,” my mother said sweetly, holding out the package.

A person holding a brown box | Source: Pexels

A person holding a brown box | Source: Pexels

Ms. Johnson snatched the package from her hands and ripped it open. Her face fell as she realized the delay had cost her dearly. The tickets were now useless, and she had no time to prepare for her event. Frustration and defeat were etched into her features. She could only muster a weak, “Thanks,” before slamming the door in my mother’s face.

Mom walked away, a slight smile playing on her lips. She knew she had given Ms. Johnson a taste of her own medicine, all without stepping outside the bounds of her duties. It was a quiet victory, but a deeply satisfying one.

Woman standing under a chandelier of a hotel room | Source: Pexels

Woman standing under a chandelier of a hotel room | Source: Pexels

When my mother told me about the incident later, I could see the relief in her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “the best revenge is simply letting people experience the consequences of their own actions.”

My Entitled Daughter Stole My Wedding, but I Didn’t Let It Slide

On the day of Mabel and Adam’s wedding, they’re stuck in a limousine as they crawl along the freeway, thanks to traffic. Instead of keeping her mother’s guests entertained, Mabel’s daughter, Amanda, takes over the wedding, stealing the limelight. Will Mabel retaliate at the wedding or just let Amanda learn her lesson another way?

Weddings are supposed to be magical, right? An entire day dedicated to the culmination of love, months of planning, and a chance to stand with your person, promising to be with them forever…

That was the dream, at least, until my daughter Amanda turned it into an absolute nightmare.

A beautiful wedding setting | Source: Midjourney

A beautiful wedding setting | Source: Midjourney

Sigh.

It started with traffic, of course. My fiancé Adam and I were stuck on the freeway in our limousine, trapped in a sea of brake lights thanks to an overturned truck miles ahead. We weren’t too worried about the traditions. We were both married before, so seeing each other before the ceremony was the least of our concerns.

“Time, please, Ben?” I called through the intercom for our driver.

A couple sitting in a limousine | Source: Midjourney

A couple sitting in a limousine | Source: Midjourney

“It’s difficult to say, Mabel,” he said. “But I’m trying to gap in whenever I can! I will get you and Adam down the aisle!”

We were definitely going to be late.

“Love, call Amanda,” Adam said, his jaw tight as he tapped on the seat. “Tell her to sort out the guests, just get the band going and keep people entertained.”

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

I dialed my daughter, already feeling the pressure. She picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, sweetie,” I said the moment she answered. “We’re stuck in traffic. There has been an accident, so everything is at a standstill. Can you make sure everything’s running smoothly at the venue? We’ll be about 30 minutes or so. Adam said to get the band playing.”

“Of course, Mommy!” Amanda chirped, her voice syrupy sweet. “Don’t you worry about a thing other than getting here. I’ve got everything else handled. Be safe!”

A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I exhaled, letting her assurance calm my nerves. But not ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. It was my sister, Jess.

Her voice was frantic.

“Sis, you have to come here now! It’s Amanda, she…” her voice trailed off before the call cut off.

“She’s what?” I muttered, immediately redialing, but it went straight to voicemail. A heavy pit settled in my stomach, but there was nothing we could do except crawl forward in the traffic.

A woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney

“What do you think Jess meant? What do you think is going on?” I asked Adam after filling him in.

“Oh, honey,” he said. “Honestly, I’m sure Amanda picked up a mic and is trying to sing with the band.”

When we finally pulled up to the venue half an hour later, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Amanda stood on the steps, her face glowing as she held a bouquet of ivory roses. She was in a wedding dress. It was white and simple, but it was definitely a wedding dress.

A smiling young couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling young couple | Source: Midjourney

Our photographers swarmed around her, cameras clicking as she posed with a dazzling smile. And next to her stood Kyle, her boyfriend of barely a year, looking dazed and uncomfortable in a suit.

I felt my heart stop.

“What the hell is going on?” I yelled, storming up the stairs.

Amanda turned to me, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement.

An upset bride | Source: Midjourney

An upset bride | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, Mommy!” she gushed. “I’m so sad you missed the ceremony! It was lovely!”

My jaw dropped.

“My ceremony? You had my ceremony? You stole my ceremony? Amanda, are you out of your damn mind?”

“Well,” she said, brushing imaginary dust off her dress. “I thought since you were late, we couldn’t let the time go to waste. Everything was already set up, and the officiant needed to get going. You know how much I hate delays. So… I married Kyle!”

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney

The audacity of it left me speechless. My beautiful ceremony, the one Adam and I had dreamed of and planned for months… it was all gone. It had been hijacked by my own daughter.

“You’ll get married another day!” she chirped, as if she hadn’t just crushed my heart. “Now, Kyle and I are going to do the final walk down to the reception hall. The guests are going to throw the rice and confetti. Do you want to join?”

I shook my head.

Confetti being thrown on a couple | Source: Midjourney

Confetti being thrown on a couple | Source: Midjourney

Adam came up behind me, his face a mix of fury and heartbreak. He had spent so much time trying to bond and build a relationship with Amanda that I knew her behavior had broken his heart, too.

“Say the word, love,” he said. “Say the word, Mabel, and I’ll shut this down right now.”

I looked at Amanda, the girl I raised, who was now staring at me with infuriating smugness. My fists clenched. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to fight her, to take back what she had stolen.

A frowning man | Source: Midjourney

A frowning man | Source: Midjourney

But I exhaled slowly.

“She’s still my daughter,” I muttered to Adam. “Don’t. I’ll teach her a lesson another way.”

The reception was a surreal experience. Amanda flounced through the room, acting like the star of a fairy tale, completely oblivious to the devastation she’d caused.

My family and friends came around between courses, asking what had really happened.

A crowd of people at a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney

A crowd of people at a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney

“Mabel, we thought it was your wedding, dear,” my aunt said. “You were supposed to get your happy ending. What is this about Amanda getting married? We didn’t know that she was even seeing someone!”

“I don’t know, Aunt Joy,” I said. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”

When dessert rolled around, Amanda even had the nerve to cut into the cake we’d ordered, complete with the beautiful sugar flowers.

A beautiful wedding cake | Source: Midjourney

A beautiful wedding cake | Source: Midjourney

Jess pulled me aside at one point, her eyes blazing.

“That daughter of yours pulled my phone away while I was talking to you. And then she locked me in the bathroom during the ceremony! I couldn’t do anything else about it! Why didn’t you stop her when you got here?”

“Because,” I said, a smile curling my lips. “Revenge is best served cold.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

The real kicker came later that evening. Amanda knocked on our hotel room door, smiling as if nothing had happened.

Adam and I were sitting on the bed, eating our way through the room service dessert menu.

“So,” she said, leaning against the cupboard in the room. “Kyle and I need your tickets to Chile for the honeymoon. I mean, there’s no point in you guys using them after all.”

A couple sitting in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

A couple sitting in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

Adam froze. I swear, I saw his hand twitch toward the night light like he was ready to throw it.

But I smiled, keeping my voice calm.

“Of course, sweetie. You can have the tickets. You and Kyle deserve some fun.”

A smiling bride in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

A smiling bride in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

Amanda squealed, hugged me, stole a strawberry from one of the plates, and let herself out.

“What the hell, Mabel?” Adam asked. “Really? She’s taking our honeymoon too? We worked so hard for all of this. Our wedding, our honeymoon, all of it. And for what? For Amanda to behave like a brat?”

“I know you’re upset,” I said. “But honey, trust me. She’s going to learn a lesson. Two days from now, you’ll see.”

An upset man in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

An upset man in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

And just like clockwork, Amanda phoned two mornings later, her voice anything but cheerful.

“How could you do this to me, Mom?!” she screamed.

I smirked, cradling the phone to my ear.

“Amanda, darling, is something wrong?”

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Wrong?” she shouted. “You gave me tickets to the Arctic! We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, freezing, and there’s nothing to do!”

I bit back a laugh. The tickets had been for Chile, technically. But they were only a layover on the way to our real destination: an Arctic expedition. Glacier hikes, frigid waters, and polar bear sightings.

It was our dream trip. But Amanda? She hated the cold. Luxury resorts and tropical beaches were more her style.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

Classic Amanda. She had never bothered to check the full itinerary.

“You asked for the tickets, Amanda,” I said.

“But what must I do?” she whined.

“You’re a married woman now. Figure it out.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

She hung up on me, already muttering a series of curses. And I couldn’t stop grinning.

Meanwhile, Adam and I made new plans. My sister and our closest friends rallied together to throw us the most beautiful wedding celebration at Jess’s house a week later.

They handled everything, from catering to decorations, and it was even more perfect than I could have imagined.

Beautiful wedding decor | Source: Midjourney

Beautiful wedding decor | Source: Midjourney

This time, Amanda wasn’t invited. And do you know what made everything so special? The gifts.

Since Amanda had hijacked my original wedding, all the presents went to us. A brand-new espresso machine, luxury linens, and an all-expenses-paid spa weekend from Adam’s older brother.

It was like karma had gift-wrapped itself for us.

A coffee machine in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A coffee machine in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

When Amanda found out, she had another meltdown.

“Mom, you stole my wedding gifts?” she shouted over the phone. “Everything was supposed to be left at the wedding venue until we got back from our honeymoon.”

“I think you should stop talking,” I said.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Mom, you ruined everything for me!” she cried. “I can’t believe you stole my damn gifts.”

“Amanda,” I began, laughing. “Your gifts? You stole my wedding. Consider this a fair trade.”

Adam, at the espresso machine, doubled over and laughed.

As for Amanda’s new marriage to Kyle?

A man laughing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man laughing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

From what I hear, it’s already on the rocks. Jess told me later that Kyle looked downright miserable during the wedding ceremony. And I had seen that for myself during the reception. He had avoided Adam and me completely.

“That boy’s in for a rough ride with her,” Jess said when she came over for tea and cake a few days later.

Amanda might have stolen my fairy-tale wedding, but her happily-ever-after was already on thin ice.

Cake and tea on a table | Source: Midjourney

Cake and tea on a table | Source: Midjourney

As for Adam and me? We’re better than ever. We did go on our Arctic honeymoon, and it was breathtaking.

Some lessons, I guess, are best learned the hard way. Amanda might never admit it, but I like to think she’s realized that entitlement comes at a cost.

And if not? Well, let’s just say I’ll always have the satisfaction of knowing she outsmarted herself.

Karma, after all, has a way of evening the score.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another for you:

My Cousin Intentionally Sewed My Wedding Dress 2 Sizes Smaller – She Was Shocked When She Saw What I Did with It

When Jess and Michael get engaged, her cousin Sarah decided to sew her wedding dress for her as a gift. But during the final fitting, Jess discovers that the wedding dress is two sizes too small. Will Sarah fix her error, or will Jess have to take things into her own hands?

My cousin Sarah and I have always had a complicated relationship. She’s loud and bubbly, but also the type of person who craves the spotlight. And because of that, our entire family gave her the attention she wanted. It made more sense to shine the spotlight on Sarah, rather than ourselves.

When Michael and I got engaged after being together for four years, my whole family seemed genuinely excited for me.

A couple standing together | Source: Midjourney

A couple standing together | Source: Midjourney

Sarah even got all of our girl cousins together, along with my best friends, for a night out. Ending in an Airbnb where we continued the party, because I was the first of us to get engaged.

During that night out, Sarah came up to me, a glass of champagne in her hand.

“Jess! I have a great idea!” she said.

A smiling woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney

“What?” I asked. “What do you want to do?”

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*