Customers Only

I am a customer here, so if I want to use the toilet I walk up to the counter, get the attention of an espresso machine-operating employee and ask for the key to the restroom. The key is attached to a giant black plastic spoon, which the user has to carry all the way to the restroom. I am okay with that since there are no chances of me sticking the key in my pocket. The instinct that leads to the accumulation of strange pens in one's pocket. The spoon is to protect the key, which in turn protects the toilet, which in turn takes care of customers only, we the special ones who spend some money here, even if it's only one tea and a scone.

The message on the toilet door is clear: "Facility is for customers only." Which explains why I already ordered an Earl Gray, which now sits on the table in a corner of the Cafe I will occupy for the next four or so hours. As long as there is proof that I bought something when I walked in, I can use the toilet as many times as I want. I am a customer, and it feels good to watch the employees send non-customers away, telling them, "Sorry sir, but the sign says..."; or "You can't use the facility ma'am, order first."

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