Ermelinda's POV
The diner was packed—too packed for a Thursday evening. The clatter of plates, the buzz of chatter, and the steady hum of the espresso machine all blended into one relentless noise that made my head pound.
I was halfway through refilling the sugar jars when I noticed him — the kind of customer who seemed determined to make my night harder.
He stomped up to the counter with a scowl, eyes sharp like knives. "I've been waiting forever," he snapped, slamming a wrinkled coupon on the counter. "What's taking so long?"
I forced a smile, swallowing the irritation bubbling up inside me. "I'm really sorry about the wait, sir. We're a bit busy tonight, but I'll get your order right out."
He scoffed, folding his arms. "Busy? You call this busy? I've seen faster service at a snail race."
A cold knot tightened in my stomach. I took a deep breath. "I promise I'll make sure your order is perfect."
He sneered, "Perfect? You wouldn't know perfect if it slapped you."
I clenched my jaw but kept my voice calm. "I'm doing my best. Please bear with me."
The line behind him grew longer, and the pressure was crushing. My feet ached, my muscles screamed, but I refused to let his words break me.
When I brought his order over—a burger with fries, just like he asked—he glared at the plate like I'd personally insulted him.
"This isn't what I ordered," he growled, poking at the burger. "Where's the lettuce? And no ketchup? What kind of place do you run here?"
I bit back the urge to snap. "I followed your order exactly, sir, but I can fix it right now."
He waved me off. "Forget it. Just give me my money back."
Before I could respond, my boss appeared, giving me a quick nod — a silent reminder to stay professional.
I forced another smile. "I'm happy to refund your money, but if you'd like, I can prepare a new meal with the correct toppings."
He stared at me for a long moment — maybe surprised I hadn't lost my temper — then grumbled, "Fine. But make it quick."
As I went back to the kitchen, my hands trembled from the adrenaline. This wasn't the first rude customer I'd faced, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
But something inside me refused to let this night define me.
When I returned with the fixed order, the man barely looked up, muttered a "thanks," and turned away.
I exhaled slowly, feeling every bit of the tension drain out.
Later, when the dinner rush finally slowed, Elias showed up just in time for my break.
He grinned, nudging me playfully. "Rough night?"
I smiled tiredly. "You could say that."
He shrugged. "Well, at least you didn't punch him. You're stronger than I'd be."
I laughed softly. "Someone's gotta keep the peace."
As I took a sip of my water, I reminded myself: some days are battles, but I'm still standing.
Because no rude customer or hard night could stop me from chasing my dreams