When Mental Health Meets Minimum Wage

When I was in college, I had a part-time job at a newly opened coffee shop. They had this little old lady who wasn’t quite homeless but never really lived anywhere else. She would order an Americano at 10 AM and sit in the corner chair all day. Every day. For weeks. We did free refills on Americanos. She got plenty. No guests, no food orders… just sitting in the corner, buried in multiple coats, wearing dark glasses, and not moving.

This wouldn’t be a big deal, but she would wreck the women’s toilet. Half a roll of tissue, sanitary items, you name it.

It took us a while to catch her as the culprit. We finally did, though; one of the girls had been very dutifully checking the bathroom after every customer. Sure enough, she leaves a completely clogged toilet.

She walks up and asks for a refill. The owner steps in, pours her fresh coffee into a paper cup, and says:

Owner: “Here is the $1.15 you paid for the drink. I don’t want you in my store again.”

She pretended she couldn’t hear him, then started doing the “I’m not even lookin’ at you” thing, then she started this mumbling screed about how we’re clearly racists.

The owner is not a terribly imposing guy, and he finally raises his voice and goes:

Owner: “Ma’am, you have been clogging our toilets every night for a week. You have to leave, now, or I’ll call the cops.”

So, she slaps him. 

The cops sorted it all out and warned her they would get her for trespassing if she came inside or used our cafe tables on the sidewalk. Fortunately, she never came back, and I didn’t have to clean up after her anymore!