A Rich Customer Mocked Me, Calling Me a ‘Poor Cashier’ – But Karma Came for Her Moments Later

As if making me squirm somehow made her day.

I didn’t look at her. I kept scanning, fingers aching with every movement. I placed each item gently into her bag, spacing them out, careful not to crush anything.

“Your total is $147.30,” I said politely.

She pulled out a black credit card with the same kind of flair you see in old movies.

Then she paused, lips curling just slightly.

“That bottle probably costs more than your entire paycheck,” she said. “Try not to drop it. I get that poor people don’t handle expensive things often, but come on.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

The humiliation sat like a brick in my chest. My fingers gripped the edge of the counter.

A woman behind Red Coat shifted uncomfortably. Someone else coughed.

But no one said anything.

And that, somehow, made it worse.

I wanted to say something — my goodness, I did. But when people like her look at you that way, like you’re less than nothing, silence starts to feel safer than trying to stand tall.

I swallowed hard and reached for the receipt.

And that’s when a quiet voice, small but clear, cut through the stillness like a pin in a balloon.

“Mom,” the boy said, his voice calm and clear. “Thank you for teaching me to be kind.

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