Closing Your Eyes To The Closing Of The Café

I work at a museum with a little café. We close at four and make two announcements before closing, one at closing, and one a few minutes after to make sure everyone leaves the building so that we can finish our closing procedures and lock the building.

It’s about 4:10, and a family comes to the café where I am restocking.

Mother: “Can we quickly buy something?”

Since the register is still open, I agree, since most folks quickly grab something and leave at this point.

However, even though we have stacked all of our chairs and moved all of our tables, the whole family goes and sits on the permanent wall booth and makes it clear they are going to sit in to have their meal rather than take it with them as most people do when it’s obvious we’ve already technically closed.

We work around them, cleaning and restocking with no other guests in sight. At about 4:20:

Mother: “When do you close?”

Me: “We closed at four.”

Mother: “Thank you.”

She kept eating.

At 4:30, all of us employees had to leave. We were standing around, purses, keys, and backpacks in hand, and the family was still munching away.

A manager decided, even though it wasn’t part of our closing procedures, to shut off all the café lights. Only then did the family angrily grumble that we “turned the lights off on them” and shuffle out, seeming not to notice that, other than us, only the janitorial staff was left in the entire building.