Chaos Served Cold at Table 6
The moment I returned to their table, the harassment hit a new peak, sharper and louder than before. It was as if Lisa’s calm intervention had lit a fire under their need to dominate. Every word dripped with condescension, every complaint a jab designed to throw me off balance.
“Can you get our drinks right this time, or do you need your mommy to help you out?” I could see it in their smug smirks, the way they watched for cracks in my composure. Lisa’s kindness, meant to shield me, had only become another tool for them to wield against me, and they knew it.