“3 Unbelievable Real-Life Stories Where Karma Struck Instantly”
Karma has a way of catching up with those who think they can escape the consequences of their actions. These three stories reveal how individuals who attempted to get away with wrongdoing were swiftly met with poetic justice.
Karma may strike quickly and unquestionably in a world where evil action frequently seems to go unpunished.
These three tales demonstrate how dishonesty, conceit, and poor judgment may sometimes have instant repercussions, demonstrating that justice is not always served by the legal system
Life taught my manager a valuable lesson after he made me serve leftovers to a foreign customer. Right away
I was hurrying between tables at Sizzling Steak in an attempt to keep up with the evening rush.
As a new employee, I was still getting used to my surroundings. At that moment, I saw a middle-aged man enter wearing an overcoat and kimono. As I walked up to him, he gave me a nice smile.
“Steak, with rice… rice bowl!” he pointed to the menu and remarked in a weak English.
I explained to him politely that we didn’t serve rice, even though he appeared friendly.
“How about fries instead?” I suggested, and he eagerly agreed with a smile.
After taking his order, I headed back to the counter. There, I noticed a partially eaten, cold steak sitting on a plate. I quickly picked it up, intending to toss it out, but my manager, Andy, stepped in before I could.
As he grabbed the platter, he asked, “Why waste good food?” “Serve it to him.”
I was appalled.
“That is not possible! It’s been consumed, and it’s cold.” I objected.
However, Andy laughed and waved me away.
“He is merely a visitor. “He won’t be able to tell the difference,” he smirked.
I felt stuck even though I knew it was wrong. I feared that I might lose my job.
I grudgingly gave the man—I subsequently found out his name was Higashi—the chilly steak.
He pointed to the dish and remarked, “This isn’t what I ordered,”
Andy interrupted me as I was trying to explain.
He yelled, “Hold on a second, Jackie Chan,” at Higashi. “Is this what you ordered? “Eat it!”
Higashi was unaware of the situation. He got up to go, feeling bewildered.
A wad of cash dropped out of his wallet at that moment. It had hundreds of dollars.
Andy’s eyes brightened, and I could tell that he was instantly grinning. I observed his hasty apology to Higashi and his assurance of a “luxurious experience.”
To get me to agree to his plan, he even thrust a $100 cash into my hand.
Andy quickly swapped out the cold steak for a sumptuous dinner of sake, teriyaki chicken, and grilled salmon.
He shouted, “It’s on the house!” but his phony friendliness was not enough to conceal his avarice.
“Free?” inquired Higashi.
“Absolutely!” Andy gave a loud roar. “Not a penny out of your pocket, my friend.”
Andy’s fingers wavered as he reached for a dainty sake cup to pour, causing a splatter of rice wine to land on Higashi’s immaculate topcoat.
Andy quickly expressed regret and seized the chance to “clean” the man’s pricey coat.
Despite Higashi’s uncomfortable appearance, Andy accepted the coat.
My heart skipped a beat when I followed Andy into the rear room. Andy was taking wads of cash out of the coat’s pockets.
“What are you doing?” I went up to him. “You can’t steal his money!”
Andy told me, “He’ll never know,” in an attempt to persuade me to accept the money.
I had to stop him from doing this. Pretending to comply, I took the money from him with the intention of giving it back to Higashi.
In order to open Andy’s locker and remove all of the money, I waited for him to become busy. After hastily tucking all of the money into my pockets, I left the rear room.
I hurried to Higashi’s table and gave him the money as soon as I was certain Andy wasn’t there.
I said, “This is your money,” in an attempt to explain.
He appeared perplexed at first, but I clarified everything using a translation software. When he realized what had happened, his expression shifted.
At that moment, a policeman entered the eatery, and Andy smiled next to him.
“They stole my money!” Andy asserted, displaying the CCTV evidence of my removing cash from his locker.
I had no idea how to defend myself, and that made me appear like the criminal.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Higashi interrupted. in flawless English.
Calmly, Higashi answered, “Actually, officer, it’s Andy who stole my money.”
Taking out a business card, he introduced himself as a journalist who had come to write about the eatery.
His use of a unique chemical that turned blue when it came into touch with water to label the bills was the greatest part. When the officers submerged the bills in water, the blue marks indicated that they were his.
I can still picture Andy’s face going white as the cop put him in handcuffs. He apologized repeatedly, but it was too late.
Karma had stepped in already.
I Made Fun of a Poor Heavy Woman on a Plane Until I Heard the Captain Talk to Her I knew the journey would be difficult and that I would be crammed into my roomy first-class seat as soon as I spotted the woman seated next to me.
Her elbow poked at my side as she searched for the seatbelt to fasten.
“Watch it!” I yelled.
“I-I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her expression agitated.
I wasn’t feeling forgiving, though.
“Apologies? Or pardon the three thousand doughnuts you consumed to get that size.” I scoffed.
I was only inspired to continue by the astonishment in her eyes.
“Lady, when you travel, you need to book two seats!”
She turned aside, and I could see the tears in her eyes, but I wasn’t finished. I was irritated by her shabby shoes and cheap attire, and I made fun of her for likely spending all of her money on food rather than an additional seat.
I chose to keep things lighthearted when the flight attendant brought the drinks cart.
“Shaken, not stirred!” “I don’t know what Moby Dick here will drink,” I continued after making a joke in my best James Bond voice.
After giving me a disgusted look, the flight attendant kindly asked the woman if she had any requests.
“A diet Coke, please,” she muttered as she wiped her cheeks.
“A diet Coke?” I sneered. “Seems a bit late for that, don’t you think?”
The flight attendant ignored me as the woman turned to face the window. I decided that I had sufficiently irritated them both to be content at that time.
Soon after dinner was served, I couldn’t help but make another joke.
“Are you sure that will be enough for her?” I inquired. “It looks like she’d need a whole village to feed!”
I kept eating my dinner while the flight attendant ignored me once more.
The flight attendant reappeared with a smile, just when I thought the flight could get any more annoying.
She told the woman next me, “The captain is a big fan and would love to invite you to the cockpit.”
Despite my confusion, I simply watched her go. What was going to happen next was unknown to me.
I started writing complaints to the airline in my head about the service as she was leaving. Subsequently, the voice of the captain emerged from the speaker.
“We have a very special guest on board, ladies and gentlemen! The voice of Miss Allison, who is traveling with us to sing in a charity event for world hunger, will be familiar to fans of “I Love Opera.”
A few bars of her singing came over the intercom, and the cabin erupted in cheers. When I discovered who I had been sitting next to, I froze in my chair.
The flight attendant came back after a minute.
She said, “I don’t care how rich you are,” while meeting my eyes directly. “If you upset her again, I’ll move you to economy.”
“Sure, I, uh,” I stumbled to say. “I-I’ll be careful.”
I got up to let Allison sit down when she returned. As soon as we were comfortable, I apologized to her.
“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier,” I muttered. “I didn’t know who you were.”
She stated firmly, “It doesn’t matter who I am,” “Never, ever treat someone that way. You’re not truly sorry, either. You wouldn’t be expressing regret if I weren’t well-known.”
I was unable to speak.
She went on to say, “You can’t judge people by their appearance.” “You have to change your habits.”
For the remainder of the flight, I remained silent. I was mortified to see that Allison was entirely correct. I needed to stop making snap judgments about individuals based on their appearance.
After refusing a dirty man a room, I discovered that he was actually the CEO in disguise.
As the concierge, I took great satisfaction in upholding the Grand Lumière Hotel’s opulent standards on this wet evening.
Everything was how it should have been until the doors opened and a disheveled man entered, his feet dirty and dripping wet.
His beard was disheveled, and his clothes were wet and dirty.
“Excuse me,” he said. Am I able to reserve a room for the night? I’ve been wandering in the rain for hours since my car broke down.
“I’m afraid we have no vacancies at the moment,” I casually answered. “Perhaps the motel down by the highway would be more suitable for your needs.”
He said, “I can pay whatever the rate is,” “I—”
“We have no rooms available for someone in your condition,” I told him. “You’d be more comfortable elsewhere.”
“But I—”
“There’s strictly no entry for unkempt guests like you!” I scoffed. “Out or I’ll have to call security!”
The man left, dragging himself back into the storm as his shoulders dropped. I hurriedly summoned the bellhop to clear the muddy area.
An hour or so later, the doors opened once more, and a well-dressed man in a fitted suit entered. His shoes shone, and his hair was combed beautifully.
It took me a moment to recognize the man I had previously turned away.
He said, “Good evening,” grinning a little. “I’d like a room, please.”
I answered, “Of course, sir,” as if nothing had happened. “May I ask what happened to your previous attire?”
“I found a truck stop down the road with showers and a clothing shop,” he laughed. “Amazing what a little soap and a clean suit can do.”
In an attempt to conceal my discomfort, I processed his reservation promptly.
“You clean up rather well,” I observed sternly as I gave him the main key. “Enjoy your stay, Mr…?”
“Bloomington,” which he answered. “Thank you, I’m sure I will.”
I didn’t know how to deal with Mr. Bloomington, so I ignored him over the course of the following few days. Until I heard him on the phone one morning, I believed everything was going smoothly.
“I’ve been here for three days, observing operations incognito,” he stated. “I think I’ve seen enough to make some necessary changes.”
What the fuck I pondered. I’m shocked by what I’ve done.
In an attempt to apologize, I went up to Mr. Bloomington, but he invited me to sit with him instead. At that point, he revealed his true identity to me.
“I recently acquired this hotel chain,” he stated, “and I’ve been visiting properties undercover to assess their operations.”
“Sir… I… I couldn’t put words together.
“Your treatment of guests has been unacceptable, particularly how you judged people based on appearance,” he said. “This has to stop.”
I was certain he was going to dismiss me at that point. However, his subsequent statement altered my perspective.
“I believe in second chances,” Mr. Bloomington declared before speaking. “Let’s make sure this never happens again.”
I said, “Thank you, sir,” but I couldn’t look him in the eye. “Thank you for the second chance.”
We made adjustments that changed the hotel’s culture over the course of the following few weeks. Some of us, including myself, were instructed to volunteer at a homeless shelter, and the staff was ordered to complete a training program.
Mr. Bloomington had made it apparent that each and every visitor was expected to be handled with dignity.
A few weeks later, on another wet night, a visitor came into the motel. I smiled when I greeted him this time.
I greeted them cheerfully, “Welcome to the Grand Lumière,” knowing that I wouldn’t waste another opportunity.
