So I was working at my restaurant, serving a table of regulars, on a beautiful spring day. My restaurant has a glass front, and I watched as three girls, aged between about 9-13, walked up right outside our front door and dumped several ice cream containers into our potted plants.
I stepped outside the front door and confronted them. “Ladies,” I said, “this is not a garbage can. Pick that up! There’s a garbage can not ten feet away.” And I pointed down the curb where, sure enough, a garbage can stood.
The girls scrambled to pick up the smooshed ice cream containers and plastic forks, and ran off to dump them in the garbage can. Satisfied, I went back into my restaurant.
Fast forward about 10-12 minutes. A lady walks into my restaurant, obviously perturbed. Before I can greet her, she says, “Did you yell at my daughters?”
I said, “No, ma’am, I did not. I caught them littering and made them pick it up.”
“Well, they told me you came out and screamed at them!”
One of my regulars, a very sweet older lady, piped up. “She didn’t scream at them! Don’t you get onto her! I sat here and watched them leave their trash in the flower pots.”
The mom backed down at that, seeing that there was a witness who corroborated my side of the story. I’m a little pissed that those girls would try to ‘sic’ their mother on me. It doesn’t take many brain cells to know not to dump your trash in other people’s potted plants, and they ought to have felt chastened, not running to her to go fuss at me. I’m also embarassed that the mom tried calling me out in my place of business, in front of other customers (she could’ve asked me to step aside and asked me politely what happened).