A pretentious woman, a 72-year-old waitress, called me ‘rude’ and left with a $112 bill – I showed her she’d picked the wrong grandmother

“Get closer to her,” I said.
“Honey, back in my day I was a local cyclist. Just ride.”
I leaned forward and said, quite loudly, “Ma’am! You haven’t paid your $112 bill!”
Her phone camera turned. Passersby on the street stopped and stared.
“Are you… are you following me?” she breathed.
“You left without paying. So yes. I’m following you until I get my money.”
Her face went pale. “That’s stalking!”
“No, honey. That’s debt collection.”
She turned and walked briskly away, glancing back over her shoulder every few steps.
Simon and I followed her at a leisurely pace. She went into a convenience store.
We parked the bike and waited outside for a minute.
“Give her a moment to think she’s safe,” I said to Simon.
“You’re wicked, Miss Esther. I love it.”
Inside, Sabrina was in the produce aisle, filming herself. She glanced nervously around, checking the entrance. When she didn’t see me, her shoulders relaxed.
“You’re wicked, Miss Esther. I love it.”
“Okay, guys, I think I’ve lost the crazy one. Let’s talk organic living.”
I appeared behind her in the frame, holding a tomato.
“Ma’am! I’m still waiting for that $112!”
She yelled. Dropped her phone. And several people turned to look.
“I’m patient. And persistent.”
“I think I’ve lost the crazy one.”
A woman with a shopping cart laughed. “Pay your bill, honey!”
Sabrina grabbed the phone and ran for the exit. Simon held the door open for her with an exaggerated curtsy. She practically sprinted to a shoe store two streets away.
We gave her a five-minute head start.