Entitlement Served With a Side of Rudeness
It was a typical Saturday morning rush, with the café buzzing its usual rhythm: clinking mugs, quiet chatter, and the door chime punctuating the flow. I had just finished tending to a table when the door chime sounded. That’s when they entered—a couple with an air of entitlement impossible to miss. Walking in with puffed chests and disgusted expressions, they practically shouted, “We own this place.”
Their eyes swept the room before landing in my section, their impatience already palpable. “Good morning! I’m Amelia, your host for today!” I greeted them with my best Saturday smile, only to be met with frostier vibes than an iced latte.