“I’m sure they are,” I muttered. “Especially for you, the regular.”

When the bill came, it totaled around $60. I counted out $30 for the tip—a generous 50%—and folded the cash neatly under the check.
“You’re leaving that much?” Sam asked, surprised.
“You wanted to leave her a good tip, right?” I replied, sliding the money into place.
He shrugged, smiling. “That’s my girl.”
Skye returned to settle the bill, her movements quick and efficient.
As she collected the cash, she turned to Sam, her voice as sweet as ever. “Thank you so much for that! That was really thoughtful of you, Sam. I appreciate it.”

My jaw tightened.
I leaned forward, my voice sharp. “I paid the tab, Skye. I tipped you. Not my husband. You’re welcome.”
Her posture stiffened for a moment, but she didn’t acknowledge me. Instead, she walked away, her ponytail swaying as though she hadn’t heard a word I said. But I knew she had.
The car ride home was tense.
“Did you really have to say that?” Sam finally asked, frustration lacing his tone.
I turned to him, incredulous. “Are you serious, Sam? She ignored me the entire night.”
He sighed, rubbing his temple. “I mean, yeah, but she probably thought I paid. It wasn’t personal.”

“Oh, come on,” I snapped. “Even if she thought you paid, it’s basic courtesy to acknowledge both people at the table. She didn’t have to flirt with you and treat me like I was invisible.”
“Flirt? She was just being friendly,” he insisted, laughing like I was overreacting.
“Friendly? To you, maybe. But to me? I might as well have been a ghost.”
Sam shook his head, clearly done with the conversation. “You embarrassed me. Now she probably thinks we’re ‘those people.’”
“What people? The ones who expect decent service and mutual respect?”
He stayed silent, starting the car.

When we got home, I replayed the night in my head.
Maybe I’d overreacted. But the way she treated me felt all too familiar—like every time someone assumed I wasn’t in charge or underestimated my role.
It wasn’t just about the tip. It was about being seen.
Was I too harsh? Perhaps. But I wasn’t sorry.
And honestly? I’d do it again.
What would you have done?