When a rude customer storms into our family pizzeria, accusing us of messing up her order, she has no idea what’s coming. As tensions rise, my unflappable grandma calmly dismantles her tirade with just a few words. What happens next is pure, sweet karma.
I was just about to untie my apron and call it a day when she stormed in, a whirlwind of fury wrapped in an expensive coat, clutching a pizza box like it was a ticking time bomb.
The door slammed shut behind her with a force that made the windows rattle, and suddenly, our cozy little pizza shop felt like ground zero.
“Where’s the manager?” she barked. Her eyes were laser-focused on the counter, where my grandmother was….
