I was just trying to eat my lunch. It had been a long morning, and I finally got a few minutes to myself at that burger place on the corner of Maple and Main. I had my combo meal, a big burger and some crispy french fries. I was really looking forward to just sitting there and enjoying the quiet for a bit. The restaurant wasn’t too busy, which was nice. I had found a table near the window, and I was just unwrapping my burger when someone cleared their throat real loud next to me.
I looked up. There was this lady standing there, and she looked pretty impatient. I felt a little confused, because I didn’t know her, and she was standing really close to my table. She had her hands on her hips, just staring. My eyebrows furrowed a bit. I took a bite of my hamburger, figuring maybe she thought I was in her way or something, even though there were plenty of empty tables around.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice sharp. “Are you just going to stand there all day? I’ve been waiting.”
I swallowed my mouthful and just stared at her for a second. “I’m sorry, what?” I asked. I wasn’t standing, I was sitting, and I hadn’t seen her before. My brain just didn’t get what she meant. I felt a small spark of annoyance begin to glow.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” she snapped. “I need a fresh lemonade. The machine is broken again, and I’m not waiting in that long line to tell them a third time. Can you just go get me one from the back?”
I blinked at her. A fresh lemonade? The machine? I looked down at my plate. I looked at my plain t-shirt I was wearing that day, which was just a simple blue shirt. It had no logo, no name tag, nothing that looked like a uniform from this restaurant. I looked back at her. “Ma’am, I think you have me confused with someone else,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “I don’t work here. I’m just a customer, same as you.”
She just rolled her eyes. A huff of air escaped her nose. “Oh, please. Don’t start with that. You’re clearly an employee. You’re sitting here in the dining room, just like the other people who are on their break. Now, are you going to get me my drink or not?” Her tone made my muscles begin to tense up. I felt a tightness in my jaw. I really just wanted to eat my lunch and be left alone.
“No, I’m serious,” I insisted, pushing my plate slightly away. I felt my voice get a bit firmer. “I absolutely do not work here. I’m wearing my own clothes. I came in here to buy food, just like you did. I’m a customer.” I gestured vaguely at my clothes, then at my meal. I hoped she would finally get it and walk away.
But she didn’t. She just narrowed her eyes at me. “Listen, honey, I don’t have time for your games. My son is waiting in the car, and he really wants a lemonade. Now, are you going to get off your break and do your job, or do I need to go talk to your manager about this attitude?” Her voice got louder, and I saw a couple of other people at nearby tables glance over. I felt a flush creeping up my neck. My heart began to pound a little faster.
I picked up my plastic cup of water to take a drink, just to have something to do with my hands. “I don’t have a manager here,” I stated plainly, trying to sound calm even though my insides were churning with a mix of anger and disbelief. “I’m not on a break. I’m eating my lunch.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t have a manager,” she scoffed, dismissing my words with a wave of her hand. “Everyone has a manager. And you’re clearly trying to get out of doing work. I’ve seen this before. Now, I’m just asking you nicely to go get my son his lemonade. It’s not a hard job.”
My headache started to throb right behind my eyes. I really didn’t know what else to say. It felt like talking to a brick wall. This lady just wouldn’t understand. I glanced around, hoping maybe an actual employee would come by and clear things up, but no one did. All eyes seemed to be on us. The thought of just getting up and leaving my half-eaten lunch started to sound really appealing. This was not how I wanted to spend my afternoon.
I took another deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Ma’am, I promise you, I am not an employee. I bought this food with my own money. I don’t have a uniform. I don’t know where they keep the lemonade.” I tried to explain it as simply as possible. I pointed at the counter where people ordered. “You need to talk to the people behind the counter. They are the employees.”
She put her hands back on her hips. “You know what? This is ridiculous. I’m not going to argue with you. Just go get the lemonade. Or I’m going to make sure you get fired. You have a terrible attitude, and honestly, you shouldn’t be working in customer service if this is how you treat people. It’s disgusting.” Her voice was really loud now, and I could feel my face getting hot. I felt an intense wave of indignation wash over me. Fired? For what? Being a customer?
I couldn’t stand it anymore. My temper was really starting to fray. I pushed my chair back abruptly, making a screeching sound on the floor. I grabbed my car keys and my wallet from the table. I wasn’t going to finish my meal. I just needed to get away from this person. My lunch was ruined, and all I wanted was some peace. I started to walk quickly towards the exit, my steps quick and determined.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” she shouted after me. “You can’t just walk out on a customer! Get back here and do your job! I need that lemonade for my boy! I’m going to tell your manager that you just abandoned your post!”
Her shouts just made me walk faster. I could feel my blood pressure rising. I just wanted to be outside, away from her and her crazy demands. I was almost at the door when she ran up behind me and actually grabbed my arm. Her grip was tight, and I flinched away, surprised by her physical action. A jolt of shock went through me.
“Let go of me!” I exclaimed, pulling my arm free. My voice was definitely shaking now, and my eyes widened a bit. This was too much. This had gone way too far. I spun around to face her, really seeing red. I pointed at her with a trembling hand. “I told you, I do not work here! This is harassment! You can’t touch me!”
She scoffed again. “Oh, I can’t touch you? You think you can just assault a customer and run away? I’m calling the police! I’m going to have you arrested and fired! You are a terrible employee, and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it! Get me your employee ID right now!”
This was completely insane. My mind was racing. I had to end this. I couldn’t just keep running or shouting. I looked around, desperately seeking some kind of proof. I saw an actual employee, a young guy in a red shirt with the restaurant’s logo stitched on it, walking by. He had a mop in his hand. I pointed to him. “Look!” I said, my voice strained. “See him? He’s wearing a uniform! He has a name tag! I don’t have any of that! I don’t wear a uniform to eat lunch!” I practically yelled, the words tumbling out in a rush.
The woman actually looked over at the young employee. He nodded slightly at me, looking a bit confused but clearly understanding the situation. He just kept walking, probably used to this kind of thing. She looked back at me, her eyes finally seeming to register what I was saying. Her face softened a little bit, a flicker of something like dawning realization. “No uniform?” she mumbled, almost to herself. “No name tag?”
“No!” I repeated, my chest heaving. “I am a paying customer. I came here to buy a burger. I don’t even like lemonade! My receipt is in my wallet right now for the meal I just bought. It has the time and date on it, showing I was a customer for the past few minutes. I don’t get paid to be here. I pay to be here.”
She slowly looked at my plain blue shirt again, then at the actual employee’s red one. Her gaze finally went to my hands, which were still clutching my car keys and wallet, not a tray or an order pad. The anger seemed to drain from her face, replaced by a sheepish look. “Oh,” she said, her voice much quieter. “Oh, my. I… I guess I really made a mistake. I’m so sorry. I really thought… I just thought you were…” She trailed off, looking utterly mortified. I just wanted to leave.
