There I was, stepping into my favorite café, heart racing with excitement. “Just yesterday, I’d landed the marketing director position I’d been dreaming about.” Years of hard work had paid off, and I was ready to celebrate with my best friend, Megan. I found our usual table, but before I could sit, a woman with two restless kids shoved past me. “We need these seats,” she snapped. I gestured to the empty tables nearby, but she wouldn’t budge. “Are you deaf? Move.” Normally, I’d give in—but not today. “I was here first, and I’m not moving.”

Her face burned red. “Do you know who I am?” she demanded. Her son tugged at her sleeve. “Can we please just sit, Mom?” Ignoring him, she yanked a chair aggressively, muttering, “Entitled brat.” Then, a deep voice interrupted. Uncle Tony, the café owner, stood behind me. “Ma’am, you’re disturbing my other customers.” She tried to threaten him, but Tony shut her down. “Ma’am, I own this café.” As she stomped away, Megan finally arrived. “What happened?” she asked. I grinned. “Just a little Monday morning showdown.” We raised our mugs. “To the director of marketing—and slayer of entitled dragons.”