I thought I’d seen every kind of cruelty people are capable of. But nothing prepared me for watching a rich man humiliate an elderly woman over a mop bucket. What I didn’t know was that standing up for her at that café would land me in my boss’s office the very next day.
By the time Thursday evening rolled around, I was running on fumes. Parent-teacher conferences had stretched past eight, and my voice had gone hoarse from talking nonstop for 12 hours. My feet ached.
I had chalk dust in my hair and probably on my face too. The last thing I wanted to do was go home and stare at an empty fridge, trying to summon the energy to cook something edible. So I pulled into the parking lot of Willow & Co.
Café instead. It’s one of those places that makes you feel like an actual adult. The warm lighting and soft jazz playing in the background feel uplifting.
The smell of fresh bread and coffee wraps around you like a hug. I needed that. Just 30 minutes of pretending I was a person who didn’t spend her days breaking up fights over crayons and explaining why we don’t eat glue.
I walked in, my bag heavy on my shoulder, and joined the line at the counter. There were maybe a dozen other people scattered around… some on laptops, some on dates, and a few just enjoying their food in peaceful silence.
That’s when I heard something horrible. “Are you completely blind, or just stupid?”
The voice was sharp and cutting. The kind of tone that makes everyone in the room tense up even if they’re not the target.
I turned toward the sound. A man stood near the entrance, glaring down at an elderly woman in a cleaning uniform. She couldn’t have been younger than 70, maybe older.
Her back was slightly curved, her hands gripping a mop handle. A yellow “Wet Floor” sign stood beside her, and a bucket of soapy water sat at her feet. The man wore a suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent.
His tie was perfectly knotted and his shoes gleamed under the café lights. Everything about him screamed money and entitlement. “I’m so sorry, sir,” the woman said.
Her voice trembled, but there was a steadiness to it too. Like she’d apologized a thousand times before and had learned to keep her dignity while doing it. “I just need to finish mopping this section.
It’ll only take a moment.”
“I don’t care what you need to do, lady,” he snapped. “You people always leave your junk everywhere. Do you have any idea how inconvenient this is?”
She took a small step back, her fingers tightening around the mop.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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