When an obnoxious couple show up at the café Mia works at, she cringes at the thought of having to wait on them. But things go from bad to worse when an advance is made on Mia. Soon, the café manager gets involved and Mia has to face the music…
Working the evening shift at the café was usually a breeze. And the tips were better, too. I had my routine down pat, and despite being thirty and still single, I loved my job.
Sure, it wasn’t something glamorous, but it was mine and it sustained me. And to make it even better, my coworkers were like family.
“Hey Mia, it’s Friday night,” Larissa, my coworker, said. “Think that sweet old couple will drop by?”
“Oh, I really hope so,” I replied. “They promised to bring pictures of their new granddaughter last week.”
I loved it. Our regulars brought a comforting predictability to my days.
But that night, everything changed.
As I was putting my apron back on after a cigarette break, a couple walked in. And from the moment they stepped through the door, I knew they were trouble.
The girl, with her overdone hair, flashy gold jewelry, and constant scowl, and the guy, with his cocky swagger, headed straight for my section.
“Great,” I mouthed to Larissa, rolling my eyes.
“Excuse me,” the girl snapped her fingers. “We’ve been sitting here for three minutes. Are you disabled or something?”
I bit back my retort, plastered on my customer service smile, and approached their table.
“Good evening, how can I help you?” I asked, placing their menus down in front of them.
“Stand here until we decide on our order,” the girl demanded.
So, I stood, and I waited. Finally, the girl started to talk.
“I’ll have a tuna salad sandwich, and sweet potato fries, extra crispy. And a lemonade.”
“And I’ll have the steak tacos with roasted corn on the side. And a lemonade, too.”
They rattled off their order, each item delivered with an undertone of contempt. I walked away, mentally bracing myself for the rest of the evening.
Not five minutes after giving their order to the kitchen, the girl called me over again.
“Our drinks?” she asked simply.
“They’re on their way,” I said. “Just bear with us. As you can see, the café is quite busy this evening.”
The girl sniffed and turned to face her boyfriend.
As the drinks came, I promptly delivered them before the girl could retaliate any further.
“This isn’t what I ordered,” she said, pushing the glass closer to me and spilling lemonade onto the table.
“Are you deaf?” she thundered. “I want a gin and tonic!”
“I’m sorry, I thought you said lemonade,” I replied.
“Don’t think,” the boyfriend interrupted, his voice dry. “Just get it right. You get paid for this job, don’t you?”
I hurried back to the counter, my hands shaking. It wasn’t the first time I’d dealt with difficult customers, but something about them was particularly cruel.
I mixed the drink myself and took it back to the table, trying to remain professional.
I did the same thing when their food came in. As I set down their plates, the girl took a large gulp of her drink, not paying attention to me.
Which was when the sleazy boyfriend’s hand “accidentally” brushed against my leg. He looked up and smiled, a smug, predatory grin.
“Excuse me,” I said, stepping back, my voice shaking with anger. “Don’t touch me.”
The girl turned on me, eyes blazing.
“Are you accusing my boyfriend of something? Are you really that low? You’re lying!” she barked.
But before I could respond, my boss, Mr. Grant, appeared at my side.
At first, I was comforted by his presence. I had worked with him for years, and I knew that he would diffuse the situation before it got any worse.
But I was wrong.
“What seems to be the problem here?” he asked.
“Your waitress is accusing my boyfriend of… of… something inappropriate!” the girl shrieked. “We’ve done nothing wrong!”
I quickly explained the situation, my voice trembling. “But Mr. Grant, he touched me! It wasn’t an accident!”
Mr. Grant turned to me, his expression unreadable.
“Mia, the customer is always right. You shouldn’t have retaliated in that way.”
My heart sank.
“But Mr. Grant,” I said, trying to explain.
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