The Thirty Thousand Dollar Bill That Ruined My Coworkers
Language: en
The annual company gala had just wrapped, and to celebrate our department clinching the top sales spot, my manager, Cynthia Ruth, insisted on treating us to a late-night dinner at a fancy seafood spot. It wasn’t until I slipped away to the restroom that she made her move, orchestrating a mass walk-out, leaving me holding the bag. When the restaurant manager, a man named Robert, slid the check across the polished table, my mind went blank. The tab was $12,800 for the meal. Add in the five bottles of Dom Pérignon and the rare Macallan 18-year-old they’d packed up to take home, and the total…