Chapter 3

"He ate free for six whole years, then turned around, reported me, and cost me four thousand dollars!"

"And now you're trying to set me up again? Sorry, no can do. I don't want another report on my record."

"My business license clearly states fast-casual service. We don't host private events!"

I motioned for them to get lost, but Ethan's grandparents refused to budge. Instead, they plopped right down on the sidewalk in front of my door and started wailing at the top of their lungs!

"Come look, everybody! Look how they treat poor working-class folks!"

"A kid gets into college and invites him, and he won't even serve us! He refuses honest business!"

Stunned, I turned to Ethan. "You're really going to let your family make a scene like this?"

"You think I'm a pushover, don't you?"

"You're not the only one who knows how to call the authorities!"

I yanked out my phone. "I'll call the police right now and report future NYU freshman Ethan and his family for harassment and extortion!"

"Let's see if your college still wants you after you catch a misdemeanor charge!"

Ethan's face went completely pale. His parents finally panicked and stepped in.

"Enough! Stop embarrassing us!"

"Get up, let's go, before you ruin the boy's college career!"

Ethan's grandparents finally scrambled to their feet. Before turning away, his grandmother spat on the ground right at my feet.

"Useless piece of trash!"

I clenched my fists so hard my palms ached, a sharp pain throbbing in my chest.

That kid wasn't just an ungrateful wretch; his whole family was a pack of shameless freeloaders.

That very afternoon, I had a custom sign made: *Notice: This establishment serves fast-casual meals and community charity lunches only. Any services outside our licensed scope are strictly prohibited.*

Once the sign went up, the neighborhood immediately understood what had happened.

The issue, however, was the low-income kids.

Even though it was summer break and some had gone to stay with distant relatives, many remained in town and still relied on my diner for food.

Since I wouldn't let them clear tables anymore, they felt guilty, so they started slipping into the kitchen to help prep ingredients on their own.

After thinking it over, I simply registered them as my informal foster mentees, clearing it with their guardians first.

I had no choice. I couldn't just stand by and watch those kids starve.

Meanwhile, Ethan's family went ahead with their celebration party, but their own sleazy behavior backed them into a corner.

On the day of their party, hardly anyone showed up except a handful of their immediate relatives.

Not a single teacher attended.

To save money, Ethan's family held the party at a cheap roadside dive bar patio.

They drank until midnight, making so much noise that the neighbors called the cops on them.

When the police arrived, Ethan was flush with alcohol, and his father, slurring his words, tried to wave the NYU acceptance letter in the officers' faces.

Seeing that the kid was heading to college and the family was struggling, the officers were initially inclined to let them off with a warning.

Instead of taking the win, Ethan's family turned right around and reported the dive bar to the health department, claiming the owner used rancid, recycled cooking grease.

The bar owner was so furious he brought out all his wholesale receipts and inspection certificates on the spot.

The scandal spread like wildfire through the neighborhood, and Ethan's family was ultimately forced to issue a formal apology.

Initially, the dive bar owner had pitied their financial situation and planned to give them free appetizers and a hefty discount.

After that stunt, all freebies were off the table, and not a single penny was discounted.

Ethan's grandmother tried pulling her usual tantrum on the sidewalk, but the bar owner cursed her out without holding back.

With the police standing right there, I don't know the exact details of how it wrapped up, but they certainly didn't get away with anything.

I felt a quiet sense of satisfaction knowing Ethan had finally run face-first into a brick wall.

What I didn't expect was that my diner would get reported yet again!

Just as the lunch rush started one afternoon, my wife called out in a panic, "The task force is back! Get out here! Someone reported us again!"

"Are you kidding me?!"

I walked out to find the exact same two inspectors from before.

"Peter Cooper, we've received a complaint alleging discrimination against low-income students, as well as the use of unverified, illicit food supply sources."