My wife and I traveled to Montreal, arriving on a Sunday evening. The city shuts down fairly early on Sundays (most places anyway), and that included the dining room in our hotel. Fortunately, the hotel knew of a small cafe a short walk away that they thought would still be open, but, “Don’t delay… Go now!”
We got there, and the cafe was open, but the manager advised us that they would close in an hour.
Manager: “In Canada, that means lights off, doors locked, kitchen and dining room closed, and employees on their way home. Given that, we can’t make all the items on our menu, but if you allow it, I can recommend some great options.”
Me: “Of course!”
We then observed a couple with a young child at one table, and at a second table, another couple about our age. We sat down after accepting the manager’s suggestion for dinner.
The young child was a bit antsy — not surprising for it being a bit late for his age, which I guessed to be around three or four. He wasn’t particularly loud, but he was a bit whiny, and he did get up and wander a bit.
That is when the woman of the younger couple said loudly:
Young Woman: “You’d think they could control that child.”
The comments escalated from there. The young man at one point said:
Young Man: “I’d have had him outside and over my knee long before this.”
A little while later, their server went over and whispered something to them. We couldn’t hear that, but we heard the young man boom out:
Young Man: “We are not the problem. They and that out-of-control child are! Either they — or you — get a handle on that child or throw them out!”
There was a little back-and-forth, and then the young woman loudly demanded:
Young Woman: “Give us the phone number to CPS! I’m going to call them right now!”
All this time, the manager and the server kept casting nervous glances at my wife and me. Then, the chef appeared in the kitchen doorway. He was a little short guy. None of them would be a match for the loudmouth guy judging by size alone.
I was small but fit; my wife was also small but fit, a one-time fitness instructor who also had training in martial arts. I think the manager sensed that if we sided with them, we’d quickly gain the upper hand. Still, as a person with manners, he had not yet called the police — amazing restraint on his part.
Finally, he worked up the courage, walked up to their table, and demanded:
Manager: “Leave now or I’ll call the police.”
He looked at us. We both gave him a thumbs-up and, with that, he said once more, with full resolve:
Manager: “OUT… NOW!”
The couple got up and headed toward the door. Then, the manager pointed out that there was still the small matter of the tab to settle or they’d face jail for sure.
They paid, fuming all the way, and left.
He then approached us with a quiet thanks and glasses of wine on the house.
