At The Hotel With My Mistress

 

So, I roll up to a hotel with my mistress—feeling sneaky, feeling spicy—when BAM! I spot my father-in-law’s car parked right at the entrance like it’s waiting to ruin my life.

Naturally, I panic. My “romantic” mood dies instantly. I tell my mistress the mission’s aborted—she storms off like I canceled Christmas. Furious, I do the only logical thing: I bust both side mirrors off the car like it insulted my mother. Satisfied, I strut home like I just served justice.

Next day, I go visit my father-in-law, ready to see his reaction to his poor, mirrorless ride. He’s pissed. I laugh. He growls.

I go, “Why the long face?”

He goes, “My Daghter borrowed the car yesterday.”

Karma showed up, took selfies, and left a 1-star review.