I’m a maid in a hotel.

I was called to a room and knocked, but the loud music inside meant they couldn’t hear me. Knocking louder, this owner’s daughter answered. She’s often there with her friend, causing trouble. This time, they decided to ridicule me. First, calling me their ‘servant,’ then claiming they’d been waiting for 5 minutes. I tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen. Then, one of them put a cowbell necklace on me, laughing that ‘this is my new uniform.’ Gosh, it was humiliating! But suddenly, their laughter stopped; they turned pale, looking behind me. I turned around and saw the hotel owner! He marched right into his daughter and her friend, his face red with anger. The hotel owner, Mr. Thompson, was a tall man with a stern demeanor. He seldom raised his voice, but the look in his eyes was enough to silence a room. He glanced at me briefly, his eyes softening for a moment, before turning his gaze back to his daughter and her friend. “What is going on here?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “D-Dad, we were just joking around,” stammered his daughter, her face as white as a sheet. “Joking?” he repeated, his voice growing colder. “By humiliating one of our staff? Do you think that’s acceptable behavior?” The two girls stood there, speechless, their heads hung low. I could see the fear in their eyes. They knew they were in serious trouble. Mr. Thompson turned to me and gently removed the cowbell necklace. “I’m so sorry this happened, Maria. This is absolutely unacceptable. Please, go and take a break. I’ll handle this.” I nodded, tears of gratitude welling up in my eyes. I quickly left the room, hearing Mr. Thompson’s voice growing louder as he continued to reprimand his daughter and her friend. As I sat in the staff break room, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Justice had been served, and the humiliation I felt began to fade away. A few minutes later, Mr. Thompson came in to check on me. “Maria, again, I am deeply sorry for what happened. You didn’t deserve any of that. My daughter will be issuing a formal apology to you.” “Thank you, Mr. Thompson,” I said, my voice shaky. “I really appreciate it.” He nodded. “You’re a valuable member of our team, Maria. We won’t tolerate any behavior that disrespects you or any other staff member. If there’s anything else you need, please let me know.” Later that day, the owner’s daughter, Emily, found me and apologized profusely. She seemed genuinely remorseful, her previous arrogance replaced by humility. “I’m really sorry, Maria. I was out of line, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that. It was mean and disrespectful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I accepted her apology, hoping she had learned a valuable lesson. From that day on, Emily’s attitude changed drastically. She was kinder, more respectful, and even helped out in small ways whenever she could. Karma had indeed made its presence known, and it was a reminder that no matter how tough things might get, there’s always hope for justice and change.