My Mother-in-Law Brought 38 Friends to My Restaurant and Ordered $23,289 of Food—She Stopped Smiling When I Put the Folder Beside Her Bill
Why?
Because they had become accustomed to access.
My kitchen.
My money.
My time.
My forgiveness.
Access feels like ownership if nobody ever says otherwise.
That banquet changed because, for the first time, I made everyone say exactly what they were claiming.