I was just trying to enjoy my lunch, you know? It was a real busy day at the fast-food place, packed with people everywhere. I had finally got my food, a big burger and some fries, and found a little table in the corner that was mostly clean. I just wanted to eat and then get out of there. I took a big bite of my burger and was thinking about what I needed to do next, when this lady came up to my table. She was carrying one of those trays with a half-eaten burger wrapper on it.
She tapped my arm. I flinched a little, because I wasn’t expecting it. I took my earbuds out and looked at her. Her face looked really mad. I could feel my eyebrows furrowing, confused about why she was talking to me.
“Excuse me,” she said, and her voice was sharp. “I asked for no onions on my burger. There are onions on my burger. You need to fix this for me right now.”
I blinked at her. I looked down at my own burger. Then I looked back at her. “Ma’am,” I started, trying to be polite, “I don’t actually work here.”
She just stared at me. Her mouth opened a little, like she didn’t understand what I said. “What do you mean, you don’t work here?” she asked, and her voice got louder. “You’re standing right here. You’re wearing a shirt.”
I looked down at my shirt. It was just a plain t-shirt, nothing special. No logo, no uniform. I felt a little rush of heat in my cheeks, because I hate it when people yell at me in public. “I’m just a customer, same as you,” I explained, trying to keep my voice even. “I just got my food. You need to talk to one of the people behind the counter.”
Her face got even angrier. A vein started to throb in her forehead. “Oh, so now you’re just going to pretend you don’t work here?” she scoffed, loud enough that a few people at other tables looked over. My stomach clenched. I really didn’t want a scene. “I know you work here! You’re avoiding your job! I’m a paying customer, and I demand to have this corrected! Now go get me a new burger!”
My jaw tightened. This was getting ridiculous. I tried to point to the actual employees behind the counter, who were all wearing bright red shirts. “They’re the ones who work here, ma’am. You can see their uniforms. I’m just trying to eat my lunch.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can or cannot see!” she yelled, her voice really echoing now. I could feel a dull ache starting behind my eyes. “You’re just trying to get out of doing your job! I’ve seen people like you before! Lazy employees trying to scam customers! I pay good money for my food, and I expect it to be right! Go get me a manager right now, and tell them you refused to help a customer!”
I felt my heart start to pound a little. This woman was seriously something else. I just wanted her to leave me alone. I decided to try and find a real employee to help her, hoping that would make her back off. I stood up from my table, leaving my burger sitting there, getting cold. I didn’t even look at her as I started walking towards the counter. I thought maybe if I got someone else, she’d finally understand. My muscles were starting to tense up.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she shrieked after me. “You’re not allowed to just walk away! I’m talking to you! You’re supposed to help me!”
I kept walking, trying to ignore her. I saw a young guy with a red shirt at the end of the counter, wiping it down. I tried to catch his eye, but he was busy. The woman, though, she was practically running to catch up with me. I could feel her right behind me, her angry breathing making my skin crawl.
“Stop right there!” she practically screamed, and I felt a hand grab my arm again, much tighter this time. My whole body stiffened. I felt incredibly angry now, a hot flush spreading across my face. I pulled my arm away from her.
“Don’t touch me!” I said, maybe a little too loud. People were definitely staring now. I saw the employee I was trying to get help from look over, his eyes wide.
The woman pointed a finger at me, shaking it. “See?! This is how your employees treat customers! They refuse to help, then they get aggressive! I want her fired! She needs to be fired immediately!”
The employee, a teenager, came over, looking confused. “Is everything okay here, ma’am?” he asked, looking from her to me.
“No, everything is not okay!” she practically roared. “This woman, your employee, refused to help me with my order, and now she’s being rude and trying to run away! I want her gone! I want her fired! And then you can get me a new burger, because the one I have has onions!”
The employee looked at me. I could tell he was trying to figure out what was going on. I shook my head a little, just barely, trying to let him know I wasn’t an employee. “I don’t work here,” I told him, trying to keep my voice calm, even though I was shaking inside. “She just keeps insisting I do.”
“Don’t you lie to him!” the woman bellowed. “I saw you talking to another worker earlier! You were laughing with him! You’re clearly part of the staff! Stop being so lazy and fix my order!”
My brain felt like it was buzzing. I couldn’t even remember talking to anyone earlier. I just wanted this whole thing to be over. The employee, to his credit, looked a little more understanding now. He glanced at my plain shirt, then at her. “Ma’am,” he said slowly, “she doesn’t work here. Our uniform is a red shirt. She’s not wearing one.”
“I don’t care what she’s wearing!” the woman screamed, getting right up in the poor kid’s face. “She still needs to help me! She still needs to be fired! You’re all incompetent! This is the worst service I have ever received in my life! You’re all useless!”
At this point, another employee, an older woman who looked like a manager, came over, drawn by all the noise. Her face was stern. “Is there a problem here?” she asked, her voice steady and firm.
“Yes, there’s a huge problem!” the yelling woman declared, pointing at me again. “This so-called employee refused to help me, then she got aggressive, and now she’s denying she even works here! I want her fired, and I want her arrested for assaulting me!”
I felt a gasp catch in my throat. Arrested? For what? My hands started to shake uncontrollably. My head was throbbing with a dull ache, worse than before. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
The manager looked at me, then at the woman. She could tell I was just a customer. “Ma’am,” the manager said, her voice even firmer, “this person is not an employee. She is a customer. You need to calm down.”
“I will not calm down!” the woman howled. “You’re just trying to protect her! You’re all in on it! I demand satisfaction! I want her fired! I want her job! You have no idea who I am! I’m going to call your corporate office! I’m going to get you all shut down! You can’t treat customers like this!”
She started to jump up and down a little, her voice getting higher and shriller. She was making such a scene that everyone in the restaurant was watching. The manager, her face now very grim, pulled out a phone. “Ma’am, if you do not calm down and leave this establishment, I’m going to have to call the police.”
“Go ahead! Call them!” the woman dared, throwing her half-eaten burger wrapper onto the floor. “They’ll see how I’m being treated! They’ll take my side! They’ll fire all of you! Especially her!” She jabbed her finger at me again. I just stood there, my entire body rigid. I felt like I was going to throw up.
True to her word, the manager called someone. A few minutes later, two security guards from the shopping center, where the fast-food place was, walked in. They were big guys, and they looked very serious. The yelling woman didn’t back down, though. She just kept screaming at them, telling them I was a bad employee and that they should arrest me.
But the security guards listened to the manager, who explained everything very quickly. Then they just walked right up to the woman. She kept protesting, but they were firm. They told her she needed to leave, or they would remove her. She still refused, trying to argue and make threats, but they didn’t listen. They gently but surely escorted her out of the restaurant, still yelling the whole way about how she was going to sue everyone and get us all fired. I watched her go, my shoulders finally slumping as she disappeared from sight. My whole body felt drained.
