I was at my favorite local café, a quaint little spot known for its warm ambiance and fantastic lattes. I’d arrived early to snag a seat by the window, a spot perfect for people-watching and catching up with my friend. I settled into the two seats at my table, putting my bag on the extra chair as I opened my book to pass the time.
Just as I was abou
t to get comfortable, a forceful shove from behind nearly sent me crashing into the table. I turned to see a woman, mid-forties with an air of entitlement, glaring at me with an unmistakable sense of superiority.
“MOVE IT, WILL YOU? MY KIDS AND I NEED THESE SEATS!” she barked, as though she was demanding a throne rather than a simple café chair. She didn’t even bother to apologize for nearly knocking me over.
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure. “I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for someone,” I said calmly, hoping to defuse the situation.
Her eyes narrowed into a menacing glare. “I don’t care who you’re waiting for. I’m friends with the owner, and I CAN HAVE YOU KICKED OUT OF HERE IN A SECOND! SO WHY DON’T YOU DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND SCRAM?!”
Her arrogance was staggering, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Look, I understand you want to sit here, but I was here first and—”
“Listen, sweetheart,” she hissed, leaning in closer with a sneer. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ll make one call, and you’ll be out of here, banned for good.”
I could feel my blood boiling, but I took a deep breath and decided to handle this with a bit of creativity. I picked up the menu, deliberately flipping through it, as though contemplating what I might order. As I scanned the pages, I noticed a little detail at the bottom of the menu.
I smiled to myself and then turned to face her. “Alright, here’s the deal. I’ll leave if you can correctly name the type of coffee that’s on special today. And if you can’t, you’ll have to let me stay.”
She looked puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
I pointed to the menu. “Right here. It’s a special today, and if you can’t name it, you’re not sitting here.”
Her face twisted in irritation. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t have to—”
“Actually,” I interrupted, “it’s part of the café’s promotional deal. If you can’t name the special, then you’ve agreed to let me stay.”
She fumed, but she was clearly taken aback. Her gaze darted around as if hoping someone would come to her rescue. When no one did, she huffed and muttered, “Fine, I’ll call the owner and get this sorted.”
She pulled out her phone and began dialing furiously. I watched with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement as she spoke into the phone, her voice growing more desperate by the second.
The café’s owner, who happened to be a regular at the place and a friend of mine, came out from the back. He walked over to me with a friendly smile and then turned to the entitled woman.
“Is there a problem here?” he asked politely.
Before she could open her mouth, I raised my hand. “Actually, I’ve just been informed that there’s a special coffee today. She couldn’t name it, so—”
The owner’s eyes twinkled with recognition. “Ah, yes. The special is the caramel macchiato with a hint of sea salt. I’m afraid our friend here didn’t quite get it right.”
The entitled woman’s face turned crimson, her anger and embarrassment clear. She opened and closed her mouth, but no words came out. With one last glare at me, she stormed out of the café, her kids trailing behind her with wide eyes.
I settled back into my seat, my friend arriving just in time to witness the end of the spectacle. We both shared a chuckle, and as I sipped my latte, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. Sometimes, a bit of quick thinking and a touch of wit are all it takes to teach someone a lesson in humility.