Passengers on a public bus | Source: Freepik
When a rude stranger stole my bus seat, I never expected karma to hit him threefold during our journey. As I watched his day unravel, I wondered if my final act of revenge would be a step too far — or the perfect lesson he needed to learn.
I was having a pretty decent day until I boarded that bus. The stop was crowded, people pushing and shoving to get on first. I managed to snag a seat, dropping my bag to save it while I helped Mrs. Chen with her suitcase.
A woman helps an elderly woman to a seat on a crowded bus | Source: Pexels
“Thank you, dear,” she said, patting my arm. “These old bones aren’t what they used to be.”
I smiled, turning back to my seat, only to find some suit-wearing jerk sitting there, my bag tossed on the floor.
“Excuse me,” I said, trying to keep my cool. “That’s my seat.”
The man barely looked up from his phone. “Don’t care. First come, first served.”
“But my bag was here. I was just helping someone —”
“Look, lady,” he snapped, finally meeting my eyes. “I’m not moving. Take your bag and find another seat.”
A man rudely tells the woman to find another seat, refusing to move | Source: Pexels
I was fuming, but causing a scene wouldn’t help. I snatched my bag and stomped towards the middle of the bus, muttering under my breath. As I passed a young woman struggling with a fussy baby, I gave her a sympathetic smile.
The bus lurched forward, and I grabbed a pole to steady myself. That’s when I heard it — the unmistakable wail of a baby cranking up to full volume. I couldn’t help but smirk as I saw the entitled jerk’s shoulders tense.
The bus lurches forward as a baby starts crying loudly | Source: Pexels
He turned around, glaring at the young mom. “Can’t you shut that kid up?”
The woman looked mortified. “I’m sorry, he’s teething. I’m doing my best.”
“Well, your best isn’t good enough,” he snapped.
I’d had enough. “Hey, buddy,” I called out. “How about you mind your own business? She’s doing what she can.”
He shot me a dirty look but turned back around. I caught the mom’s eye and mouthed, “You’re doing great.” She gave me a grateful nod.
The woman reassures the struggling mom with a comforting look | Source: Pexels
An elderly gentleman sitting nearby leaned over to me. “Don’t let him get to you, dear. Some people just wake up on the wrong side of the bed.”
I chuckled. “More like the wrong side of life.”
For the next half hour, that baby was like a tiny, adorable instrument of karma. Every time the jerk started to doze off, the little guy would let out a piercing shriek. But the real kicker? He started literally kicking.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
A man on a bus | Source: Midjourney
The back of jerk-face’s seat was getting a workout. I bit my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“For the love of — can you control your child?” he snarled at the mom.
She looked close to tears. “I’m sorry, he’s just restless. It’s a long trip.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Hey, if you’d let me have my seat back, you wouldn’t be dealing with this.”
He ignored me, but I swear I saw his eye twitch.
A teenager sitting across from me snickered. “Dude’s gonna blow a gasket.”
I grinned. “Serves him right.”
Just then, a few raindrops splattered against the windows. The jerk stood up, reaching for the roof hatch above his head. “Great, just what we need! Rain!”
People on a bus | Source: Pexels
As he tugged on the hatch, there was a loud CRACK. His face went pale. “Uh oh.”
A steady drip of water began falling — right onto his head. He tried to close the hatch, but it was stuck fast. Every few seconds, another trickle landed with a soft “plop” on his head.
“Having some trouble there?” I called out sweetly.
He whirled around, water flying from his woolen beanie. “Shut up! This is all your fault somehow, I know it!”
I held up my hands innocently. “Hey, I’m way down here. Maybe it’s just… karma?”
A woman on a bus | Source: Midjourney
The mom with the baby, who had finally settled down, giggled. The jerk shot her a venomous look before slumping in his seat, occasionally swatting at the water drops like they were flies.
A middle-aged woman sitting nearby whispered to me, “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s like the universe is teaching him a lesson.”
I nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “Three strikes and you’re out, right?”
As we neared our destination, a wicked idea popped into my head. I dug into my wallet, pulling out a wad of cash — mostly ones, but with a couple of twenties on top to make it look impressive. Quietly, I slipped it under the seat closest to where I was standing.
The woman secretly places a wad of cash under a seat, planning her next move | Source: Pexels
“Oh my gosh,” I said loudly, bending down. “Look what I just found!”
The entire bus went quiet. I held up the money. “Did anyone lose this? It was under this seat here.”
The jerk’s head snapped up so fast I thought he’d get whiplash. His eyes were wide, fixed on the cash in my hand.
“That’s mine!” he shouted, leaping up. “I was sitting there earlier! I must have dropped it!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Somehow I doubt that. Can you prove it? Did anyone see that man sitting in this seat here?” I called out loudly, pointing at the spot where I’d planted the cash.
People on a bus | Source: Pexels
A chorus of “nos” sounded from our fellow passengers, much to my satisfaction.
The man’s face turned an interesting shade of purple. “Give me my money, you thief!” he insisted.
He lunged forward, trying to grab the cash. But karma wasn’t done with him yet. His shoe caught on someone’s bag, and he went sprawling face-first into the aisle.
There was a collective gasp, then silence. Slowly, the jerk pushed himself up, clutching his arm. “You’ll pay for this,” he hissed at me. “I’ll sue!”
I couldn’t hold back my laughter any longer. “Sue me for what? Finding my own money?”
His jaw dropped. “What?”
A rude man | Source: Midjourney
I fanned out the bills, showing that it was mostly ones. “It’s my money. I was teaching you a lesson about karma and assuming things. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before taking someone’s seat and being rude to a mom and her baby.”
The entire bus erupted in applause. The jerk’s face was a mix of rage and embarrassment as he slunk back to his soggy seat.
The teenager from earlier gave me a thumbs up. “That was epic! You totally owned him!”
A teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but inside I was doing a victory dance.
As we pulled into the station, the mom with the baby caught my eye. “That was amazing,” she said. “Thank you for standing up to him.”
I smiled. “Us bus riders have to stick together, right? Besides, your little guy did most of the work.”
She laughed, bouncing the now-sleeping baby. “He’s usually such an angel. I guess he just knew that man needed a lesson.”
The elderly gentleman who had spoken to me earlier chuckled. “In all my years of riding buses, I’ve never seen justice served quite like that. Well done, young lady.”
An elderly gentleman | Source: Midjourney
We all filed off the bus, the jerk pushing past everyone in his haste to get away. As I watched him storm off, still dripping, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction.
“Karma’s a funny thing,” I mused to myself. “And sometimes, it rides the bus.”
As I walked away from the bus stop, I noticed the young mom struggling with her bags and the baby. I jogged over to her.
“Need a hand?” I asked.
She looked relieved. “Oh, would you? That would be wonderful.”
A woman with her baby | Source: Pexels
As we walked together, she introduced herself as Lisa and her baby boy as Sam.
“I’m Carla,” I said. “Where are you headed?”
“Just to my sister’s place,” Lisa replied. “It’s a few blocks from here. I hope I’m not taking you out of your way.”
I waved off her concern. “Not at all. After that bus ride, I could use a nice walk.”
A woman holding her baby | Source: Midjourney
We chatted as we walked, laughing about the incident on the bus. As we turned a corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. There, at a nearby café, sat the jerk from the bus, looking miserable as he tried to dry himself with paper napkins.
Lisa followed my gaze and stifled a giggle. “Should we say hello?”
I grinned mischievously. “You know what? I think we should.”
We approached his table, and I cleared my throat. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He looked up in embarrassment. “You! Haven’t you done enough?”
A man seated at a café table | Source: Pexels
I held up my hands peacefully. “Actually, I came over to apologize. The money thing was a bit much.”
He seemed taken aback by my admission. “Oh. Well… I suppose I wasn’t exactly on my best behavior either.”
Lisa stepped forward, bouncing Sam gently. “We all have bad days. Maybe we can start over?”
The man’s face softened as he looked at the baby. “He is kind of cute when he’s not screaming.”
We all laughed, the tension dissipating. As Lisa and I turned to leave, the man called out, “Hey, what’s your name?”
A man seemingly shouting | Source: Midjourney
“Carla,” I replied.
He nodded. “I’m Victor. And… I’m sorry about the seat thing.”
I smiled. “Water under the bridge, Victor. Or should I say, water through the roof?”
He groaned good-naturedly at my joke, and we parted ways. As Lisa and I continued our walk, I couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, karma had worked its magic on all of us today.
Two women walking | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about a wealthy man who is irritated to find himself sitting next to an overweight woman in first-class, and starts complaining to the flight attendant.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
