REALITY CHECK...

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I was grocery shopping in my work clothes when a former high school classmate loudly mocked me for "still being poor" in front of everyone, not knowing I'd just bought the house she'd been bragging about renting.

I'd just finished a 12-hour shift at the hospital and stopped at Safeway still wearing my scrubs. After medical school and residency, I was finally making decent money as an ER physician, but I still shopped at the same grocery store I'd gone to in high school.

That's when I heard a familiar voice behind me in the checkout line.

"Oh my god, is that really you? Still shopping at Safeway, I see."

I turned around to see Jessica Murphy, who'd made my life miserable in high school because my family couldn't afford the clothes and cars other kids had. She was with two other women I didn't recognize, all dressed up like they were going somewhere fancy.

"Hi Jessica," I said, continuing to unload my cart.

She looked me up and down with that same condescending expression from high school. "Aw, are you a nurse? That's so sweet. I always thought you'd end up in some kind of service job."

"Something like that," I replied, not really wanting to get into it.

"I'm in pharmaceutical sales now," she announced loudly enough for the people around us to hear. "I actually just moved into this amazing house in Maple Heights. You know that neighborhood? Probably not—it's pretty upscale."

The woman next to her chimed in. "Jessica's place is gorgeous. Three bedrooms, two-car garage, that beautiful kitchen with the granite countertops."

"I'm renting it from the owner," Jessica continued, "but honestly, I'm thinking about making an offer. It's exactly the kind of place successful people live, you know?"

She was clearly trying to impress her friends by putting me down, just like in high school.

"4247 Oakwood Drive?" I asked casually, continuing to scan my items.

Jessica's eyes widened. "How did you... do you know that area?"

"I should. I bought that house three weeks ago."

The checkout line went completely quiet. Jessica's face went through about five different expressions before settling on confusion.

"That's impossible. I'm renting from some doctor who lives out of state."

"Dr. Sarah Martinez," I said, pointing to my hospital ID badge. "That's me. And actually, your lease is up next month. My property manager should have sent you the non-renewal notice already."

One of Jessica's friends was googling on her phone. "Oh my god, Jess, she's not lying. Dr. Sarah Martinez, emergency medicine physician at General Hospital."

Jessica looked like she'd been slapped. "But... you're shopping at Safeway. In scrubs."

"I shop here because it's convenient and the prices are good. I wear scrubs because I just finished a shift saving someone's life. And I bought your dream house in cash because I work 60-hour weeks and live below my means."

The cashier had stopped scanning and was clearly enjoying the drama. Other customers were pretending not to listen but obviously were.

"Why didn't you tell me who you were?" Jessica asked quietly.

"Because I wanted to see if you'd grown up since high school. Turns out you're still the same person who thinks someone's worth is determined by their appearance and what store they shop at."

I paid for my groceries and started loading my bags. "Oh, and Jessica? The house comes with the washer and dryer, but you'll need to have it professionally cleaned before you move out. It's in your lease agreement."

As I walked away, I heard one of her friends whisper, "Wait, so she owns the house you've been bragging about?"