A Restaurant Manager Tried to Throw Me and My Daughter Out—She Had No Idea Who She Was Messing With

“Why shouldn’t she answer?”

Vanessa folded her arms.

“Because this is my restaurant.”

Daniel almost smiled at the certainty in her voice.

Vanessa leaned closer to the table and lowered her tone, but not enough to prevent nearby diners from hearing.

“People like you come in, order the cheapest entrées, occupy tables for hours, then complain when we protect the atmosphere.”