Your boy best friend was a chef. He owned his own restaurant. It was an expensive place, and everyone knew who you were. As you sat at the table, a waitress approached. You hadn’t seen her before. Her eyes scanned your body, and you heard a snicker escape her.

“Are you lost?” she asked, her voice laced with condescension.

Your face showed confusion. “What?”

She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on the table. “Look, you definitely can’t afford anything here, so I’ll let you leave quietly before anyone sees your pathetic self.”

Your eyes widened in shock. She definitely didn’t know who you were.

“Is everything alright?” came the deep voice of Bruno from behind the waitress.

“No, it’s not! This person clearly doesn’t have anything to pay with, and she still comes here,” the waitress declared. But all you could do was smile, thinking of how cooked she was.

“I see…” Bruno replied. “You’re fired. I don’t like my future wife being insulted.”