I thought they were just another smiling couple taking food photos. Then the woman leaned back and said they usually eat for free in exchange for exposure. I told them I don’t comp meals.
That night, the first bad reviews hit.
To save my business, I decided to teach them a lesson.
Owning a small café teaches you one thing very quickly: most people are kind, and a few are very good at pretending.
The first time I saw the couple that tried to destroy my business, they came in smiling.
They complimented the food, took photos of their plates, and asked about our story, our recipes, and our suppliers.
I thought nothing of it.
People walk through the door every day with their phones out, snapping pictures of lattes and croissants like they’re documenting some kind of archaeological discovery.
I’d stopped paying attention to it years ago.
If someone wanted to share their scrambled eggs with the internet, fine by me.
Free advertising, right?
By their third visit, I recognized them before they reached the counter.
Same couple, same easy confidence, same showmanship as they talked to their phones, and each other.
“This again,” the woman said, tapping the menu.
“And whatever pastry’s freshest.”
They ate slowly, narrating bites to their phones.
“Oh wow,” the woman murmured. “That crunch.”
I came over with a refill pitcher, and that’s when everything started to spiral.
“Everything taste okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. We love places like this.” The woman smiled up at me, then added, almost as an aside,
I smiled.
“That’s nice.”
The woman smirked.
“I mean, a really big following.”
She tapped her phone screen and then showed it to me.
It was open on a social media profile with thousands of followers.
Clean thumbnails showed cafés framed in soft light.
“We’re really selective. We don’t just post anywhere.”
“Well, I’m glad you like it here,” I replied.
But something about the way her voice had shifted made me uneasy.
The woman nodded.
“We don’t normally pay when we come to places like this.”
I blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
The woman smiled, still relaxed.
The boyfriend finally looked up from his plate. “Yeah. Just put our meal on the house, and we’ll tag you in our post.”
He spoke as though they were doing me the biggest favor in the world by offering to post about my place.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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