I’ve seen my share of entitled customers over 15 years in the restaurant business. But nothing prepared me for the night Meghan waltzed in, throwing around a friendship with “the owner” to demand special treatment. If only she knew who was really taking her drink order.

The look on her face when I finally revealed myself? Priceless.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

My grandparents immigrated from Spain in the ’70s with little more than a dream and family recipes. They poured everything into a small corner restaurant that smelled like saffron and hope.

My parents took that foundation and expanded it, turning our humble eatery into a neighborhood staple. When they finally decided to retire, handing me the keys felt like inheriting both a legacy and a promise.

For illustrative purposes only.

I had my own vision.

I modernized the space with sleek lighting and comfortable seating, but kept the old family photos on the brick walls. I updated the menu while preserving our signature dishes.

Most importantly, I built an online presence that had people waiting weeks for reservations. Within three years, we became one of the hottest dining spots in the city.