I Paid $2,000 for a Group Trip Rental—Here’s How I Got My Revenge When No One Paid Me Back

Excitement for the weekend trip quickly turned to frustration when Sarah’s friends didn’t pay their part of the $2,000 cabin rental. But what they didn’t know was that Sarah had a plan to make sure they didn’t get away with it.

Each year, my friends and I plan a girls’ weekend trip. We take turns organizing, and this year was my turn! I was thrilled to find the perfect place: a cute cabin right by a beautiful, sparkling lake.

Everyone was excited and loved the photos I sent. We couldn’t wait!

The place looked like it came straight out of a magazine. It had a cozy cabin with a fireplace, beautiful views of the lake, and even a hot tub.

The total cost was $2,000 for the three-night stay, which came out to just $250 each for our group of eight.

“I went ahead and booked the cabin, so I paid the full amount,” I told my friends. “To keep it simple, I’d appreciate it if you could all pay me back before the trip. Does that work for everyone?”

Source: Pexels

“Sounds perfect, Sarah!” Mary was the first to speak up. “Thanks for handling that.”

“Absolutely, no problem at all,” Ella added.

“Great, that works for me too!” said Brittany.

One by one, everyone around the table agreed.

“Yep, sounds good.”

“No worries, I can do that.”

Everyone promised to pay their share before the trip started. It seemed like everything was set and would go smoothly.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

Source: Pexels

As the trip got closer, the “easy peasy” quickly became oh-so-frustrating.

First, it was Mary. “Hey Sarah,” she said cheerfully, “my car needs new brakes, so I might be a little late on my payment. I’ll get it to you next week.”

A week later, Brittany spoke up. “Ugh, student loans are killing me this month. Can I hold off until next payday?”

“I just need to wait until my next paycheck,” Melissa added.

Weeks went by, and every time I reminded them to pay me back, they came up with more excuses.

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Each excuse was different, and none of them overlapped. It started to feel like they were all in on this together.

Then came the silence. Nothing. No texts, no calls, not a word from Ella, Dana, or even dependable Lisa.

By the week before the trip, I was out $2,000 and felt completely taken advantage of.

The same people I called my “friends” had quietly refused to pay me back. The people I trusted the most seemed to have teamed up against me.

Why were they doing this?

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Had I done something wrong? Or were they just testing how I’d handle such a tough situation? I didn’t know for sure, but it was making me really angry.

I knew I had to take action, something bold to show them I wasn’t going to be a pushover.

So, I decided it was time to teach them a lesson they wouldn’t forget. I’m not usually one for confrontation, but this situation was beyond ridiculous.

The night before the trip, I took a deep breath, picked up my phone, and started the first step of my plan.

Source: Pexels

I sent a group text, full of fake excitement: “Can’t wait to see you all at the cabin tomorrow! It’s going to be the perfect weekend getaway!”

Little did they know, I had a sneaky plan in mind.

The next morning, I woke up extra early and jumped out of bed. I quickly got dressed and rushed out the door, ready to turn the cabin into our own special retreat.

At the grocery store, I pushed my cart down the aisles, gathering everything I needed.

Source: Pexels

A giddy smile spread across my face as I filled the cart with fresh fruit, cheese, and enough snacks to feed an army. I even picked out the best wine and juices. I wanted to make sure my friends would be well-fed and comfortable.

After paying for all the snacks and drinks, I got back in my car and drove to the cabin. It was even more stunning in person, with sunlight sparkling on the lake like a million diamonds.

I stocked the fridge with everything I had bought, preparing for the weekend.

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I even set up a bonfire for that night, complete with cozy blankets and marshmallows.

The place looked perfect. I knew my friends would have the time of their lives here.

But here’s the catch: I took the keys and the garage door opener with me when I left for an “errand.”

Before locking up, I texted my friends, saying I had an urgent task and would be back by the time they arrived. They trusted me, just like I trusted them to pay me back.

But they broke my trust, and now, so did I.

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If they wanted to enjoy the weekend at the cabin, they had to follow my rules. They needed to earn their getaway.

I wasn’t going to let them have a good time after they ignored my texts and calls.

By lunchtime, my phone started blowing up with frantic messages and calls from my friends.

“Hey, Sarah, we’re at the cabin, but the doors are locked!” Ella said.

“Did you forget something?” Mary asked.

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I stayed calm and replied with a simple, “Oh no! So sorry, guys. I must have left the keys at home. But hey, the good news is I’m on my way back now!”

Was I really on my way back? No!

I was sitting at a nearby cafe, sipping my favorite iced latte. I enjoyed reading their messages as they arrived at the cabin one after another.

After I sent that last message, the number of their texts started to drop. They felt relieved that I was on my way back, but the truth was very different.

Source: Pexels

As their brief relief faded, they started calling and texting me again. This time, their messages were much more desperate. Some of my friends were angry, while others were trying hard not to lose their cool.

“How can you be so forgetful, Sarah?” Lisa asked.

“I can’t believe you’re making us wait like this!” Dana said. “I thought this was supposed to be a fun trip.”

Finally, I decided it was time to drop the bomb.

I sent a calm message: “Look, I’ll be happy to come back and let you all in, but only once everyone has sent over their share of the rental cost.”

Silence followed.

Then, a flurry of activity.

It seemed that the idea of a fun weekend getaway suddenly mattered more than car troubles, student loans, and all the other excuses they had come up with.

My phone buzzed with Venmo, PayPal, and Zelle notifications as the payments started coming in.

Within an hour, every penny was accounted for.

“You guys could have done this earlier!” I thought to myself as I grabbed the keys and headed back to the cabin.

Their faces lit up when they saw my car. Some walked toward me, while others went to the door.

“Sarah! Finally!” Mary exclaimed, relief clear in her voice.

I stepped out of the car, keys in hand. “Oh, so now I’m ‘finally’ here? How convenient,” I said, my voice full of sarcasm.

The group fell silent, and guilt spread across their faces.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Brittany began. “But you have to understand, I really—”

I cut her off. “No, Brittany. You all made excuses. I trusted you, and you took advantage of that.”

Lisa stepped forward, trying to mediate. “Sarah, we messed up. But can’t we just move on and enjoy the weekend?”

“Enjoy the weekend?” I scoffed. “After you all made me feel like a fool? After I had to practically blackmail you to get my money back?”

“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ella said softly. “We just didn’t realize—”

“Didn’t realize what? That $2,000 is a lot of money? That friendships are built on trust and respect?”

A tense silence fell over the group. For a moment, I worried that confronting them was a bad idea. I thought they might say they didn’t want to be there anymore.

I stood my ground despite the fear, letting the weight of my words sink in.

Finally, Mary broke the silence and wrapped me in a big hug.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry about the car thing. You were totally right to be mad.”

Brittany added, “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry. We’re all sorry.”

They all finally understood what they had done.

I took a deep breath and looked at each of them. “I’m glad you see it now. But remember, respect is a two-way street.”

We might not be planning any luxury cabin trips anytime soon, but at least we’ll do it with a new sense of understanding and responsibility.

This whole experience definitely made for a memorable story, even if it wasn’t the relaxing weekend I had planned.

But hey, sometimes the best lessons come wrapped in a little frustration and a lot of determination.

After Trashman Babysat My Kids for 25 Minutes, I Decided to Hire Him as Full-Time Nanny — Story of the Day

A doctor was called for an emergency at the hospital and didn’t have anyone to leave her three kids with, but suddenly, she saw the garbageman and got an idea. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she returned home.

“Now? Are you sure Dr. Morris is not available?” I asked Nurse Carey on the phone, although I was already changing my clothes and thinking hard.

“No, Dr. Sanders. Dr. Morris is currently driving across state lines trying to get here. You live close by, so I thought I would call. The interns have no idea what they’re doing. I know it’s your day off, but I didn’t know what else to do. Will you be able to come?” Nurse Carey said, trying not to sound worried, but I knew they needed me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just need to find a babysitter,” I replied and hung up, immediately dialing Vicky, who was the only person who could somewhat handle my three crazy kids.

I’ve been a surgeon for a long time, but I used to have my husband, Peter. My rock. He became a stay-at-home dad when the realities of having three children became too much. But he passed away from a sudden heart attack while I was in the middle of another surgery.

My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be.

Now, I had to constantly find babysitters for the children when unexpected emergencies happened. I couldn’t handle them. I had no patience, and it was silly to think that any babysitter would be able to handle them either. Two babysitters quit after one day of work, and word got around that my kids Johnny, 9, Christie, 7, and Lucy, 3, were menaces.

I mean… they were not wrong. But they didn’t have to put me in this position. Now, only Vicky ever said yes. Usually, I paid through the roof for the local daycare center when I was scheduled regularly at work, but I couldn’t rush them in today. It was already noon on a Friday, and I would feel bad sending them.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I’m sorry, Opal. I can’t babysit today. I’m sick and can barely move,” Vicky said when I called. I told her to get some rest and hung up the phone. I hated the staff at the hospital daycare, and they hated me in return. But I was out of ideas. I would have to wrangle with my children and go there.

But suddenly, I heard all the kids yelling, “Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!”

I sighed. They didn’t have an uncle. The local garbageman was so friendly and sweet that they started calling him uncle as soon as they could speak. I had known him for over ten years, and my kids adored him.

Johnny opened the front door, and all my babies went outside to greet him. I might have to call the hospital, I thought. I was never going to get those kids back into the house to be dressed on time.

But I did smile at the sight of them playing with Bob. My kids had turned into devils when their father died. The therapist said it was normal and would pass, but I wasn’t so sure. I felt like a failure. Like my mothering instincts were faulty or something. I didn’t know what to do.

But as I watched the kids hug and ask Uncle Bob to play, I had an idea. “That’s it,” I told myself and ran to Bob.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Bob, I have a crazy request. I know you’re busy. But I was wondering if you would babysit my kids for 25 minutes. I have to check something urgent at the hospital, and I have no one else,” I begged, and my kids looked at me with wide eyes filled with happiness.

“Sure, Dr. Sanders. I can watch them for a while,” he replied, nodding and smiling. My children jumped and cheered.

“They’re more than a handful, though. I’m warning you,” I said sheepishly.

“Don’t worry. You go ahead. Your job is important,” he told me, and I ran off, hoping my house would not be entirely destroyed by the time I returned.

The situation took more than 25 minutes, as Dr. Morris got stuck in traffic, and the patient became even more urgent. I was rushed into an operating room, and I couldn’t get away until three hours later. I felt so bad for Bob, who obviously had his own work to finish.

I drove home as quickly as I could. “Bob! Bob! I’m sorry!” I yelled breathlessly as I opened my door, but I froze.

My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be. My house was always littered with toys, crayons, paper, and sometimes smears of peanut butter. I know. Gross. Don’t judge me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Dr. Sanders, how was your surgery? Everything alright?” Bob asked as he appeared from the hallway.

“What happened here? My house… is unrecognizable. And why aren’t the kids screaming and running around?” I asked, so confused and shocked.

“Lucy is napping, and Christie and Johnny are in their rooms, reading,” he told me, and I swear, my jaw hit the floor.

“What? Are you kidding me?”

“No, go see.”

I had to go, and my eyes couldn’t believe it either. But Bob had told me the truth. “How did you do this?”

“Oh, Dr. Sanders. I was a single father raising kids once. Mine were ten times worse than these three angels,” Bob laughed. “I taught them to pick up after themselves and narrated them fairy tales. Your kids ate that up. You might want to buy them more books.”

I nodded, starstruck. No one in my life had ever called my kids “angels,” and they had never been interested in the few books I got. “I can’t believe it,” I whispered.

“It was easy. But now I have to go,” Bob said, picking up his work jacket from the back of a chair.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pe

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry about being late. I’m so embarrassed,” I said, touching my forehead. “I’ll pay you triple for that.”

“No. No. I don’t need money,” Bob shook his head, raising his hands.

“Please. For your time,” I insisted with my stern look. People at the hospital were afraid of that look, so I knew Bob would not be able to reject the money.

“Ok, I’ll treat the kids to something nice,” he laughed. “Goodbye, Dr. Sanders. Have a nice day!”

“Thank you!” I yelled out, exhausted.

***

My kids behaved for the rest of the day, and I almost cried. It was the best day ever.

So, I called Bob and offered him a full-time nanny job, tripling his current salary and adding more health benefits since I had connections at the hospital. He accepted in the end, and I was so thankful that I gave him a Christmas bonus and plane tickets to his family could visit Disneyland in California later that year.

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