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  • Bigotry Comes In All Shapes And Sizes
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    Category: Food & Drink

    Stupid Customers, like the rest of us have to eat and drink. Sadly like the rest of us, they sometimes eat with the rest of us. For every waiter, server, drive-thru operator, coffee shop barista, and restaurant manager who has had to deal with fake allergy’s, vegetarians who don’t know the meaning of the word and idiots who have yet to understand the concept of clearly listed ingredients, we salute you!

    Dealing With Racists Can Be Ownerous

    | Fort Worth, TX, USA | Bigotry, Food & Drink, Themed Giveaway, Top

    (I am eating dinner at a cafeteria. I see a waitress being incessantly berated by an elderly woman.)

    Waitress: “May I help you to your table, ma’am?”

    Customer: “Just listen to that redneck accent!”

    Waitress: “I grew up in Texas, Ma’am. Many of us—”

    Customer: “It’s still WHITE TRASH TALK!”

    (The waitress keeps her composure, and helps the elderly woman to her table. The customer starts talking to her grown-up children at the table.)

    Customer: “She is a no-class nothing! White trash! That’s all she is!”

    (The waitress finally takes a deep breath, and walks up to the elderly woman’s table.)

    Waitress: “You’re calling me white trash. Do you know that I own this franchise?”

    (The elderly woman’s eyes narrow at her, as though trying to figure out if she is lying or not.)

    Waitress: “If you’ll look at that plaque, that’s mine. It says I own this franchise. And, ma’am, you need not come back here again.”

    Makes You Want To Shrimp Into Your Seat

    | MI, USA | Bad Behavior, Food & Drink, Health & Body, Top

    (I am out for lunch with a friend, and we have just finished ordering. Our waitress has been nothing but cheerful and friendly.)

    Me: “Oh, I noticed a lot of your lunch specials have shrimp in them. Could you please make sure my food doesn’t come into contact with any shellfish?”

    Waitress: “Oh, definitely!” *makes note* “So, are you just allergic to shrimp, or all shellfish?”

    Me: “All shellfish.”

    Waitress: “That sucks. I’m allergic to the iodine in shrimp, but I can eat crab legs and stuff. Anyway, I’ll get this right in for you!”

    (As she walks away, I notice my friend is silently fuming.)

    Me: “What’s wrong?”

    My Friend: “What business is it of hers what you’re allergic to? She had no right to ask that!”

    Me: “She was just making conversation; no big deal.”

    My Friend: “No! She had no right! I’m going to talk to a manager about her behavior!”

    Me: “Dude, just chill; she was just being friendly.”

    (Ignoring me, my friend goes up to bar and demands to speak to a manager. The bartender promises to have one come to our table. My friend returns to the table. A couple of minutes later the manager appears.)

    Manager: “I hear you wanted to speak to me. Is there anything I can help you with?”

    My Friend: “Yes! Our stupid b**** waitress is rude and unprofessional! My friend here is allergic to shellfish, and when she asked that her food not touch any shellfish, your employee refused until she knew exactly what my friend was allergic to! She demanded to know! She has no right!”

    (At this point I want to hide in my seat, but the manager turns to me.)

    Manager: “Is this true? I sincerely apologize; I have never known her to do something like that!”

    Me: “That’s because it didn’t happen. She was making conversation, and simply asked a question, after making the note about my allergy. She is a wonderful waitress; my friend here is blowing it all of proportion.”

    My Friend: “No, don’t listen to her! That waitress is horrible and deserves to be fired! I demand that our bill be free!”

    (The manager is looking a bit confused. Our waitress is standing nearby, looking like she’s going to cry. I’ve had enough, and turn to my friend.)

    Me: “This has gone too far. I don’t know what you’re flipping out about, and if this is just some ploy to get free food, I want nothing to do with it. I’m not lying to get that poor girl in trouble, just because you’re cheap!”

    (I turn to the manager.)

    Me: “May I please be seated elsewhere?”

    (The manager obliges and seats me across the restaurant, though he lets me keep the same waitress. My friend—who I no longer speak to—keeps making such a racket that he is removed. I have a delicious, shellfish-free lunch, and the manager even gives me a free dessert!)

    Looking For A Toast To The East Coast

    | WI, USA | At The Checkout, Food & Drink, Geography

    (I work the night shift. We regularly get the bar crowd in trying to buy beer after the bars close. Due to a city ordinance, we can’t sell it after midnight.)

    Drunk Customer: “Where is all your beer?”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir; we can’t sell beer after midnight.”

    Drunk Customer: “Well, where can I get beer?”

    Me: *jokingly* “I think the bars are still open in New York City!”

    Drunk Customer: “Cool, how do I get there?”

    Me: “It’s over one thousand miles away.”

    Drunk Customer: “No, which direction is it from here?”

    Coworker: “That way.” *points east*

    Drunk Customer: “Cool, well thanks.”

    (He stumbles out towards his car. I turn to my coworker.)

    Me: “You’d better call the police.”

    Coworker: “Already on it.”

    Shaken About The Stirring

    | NC, USA | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

    (We have a condiment bar right next to the door that offers various sugars, half & half, and other coffee additives that the customers can add themselves.)

    Me: “Hi! What can I get you today?”

    Customer: “I’ll have a decaf latte with two sugars, please.”

    Me: “Certainly. Our sugar is over by the door for your convenience.”

    Customer: “Oh, of course.”

    (I ring him up, and my coworker makes his latte and hands it to me. I place it on the counter for the customer, who comes up and proceeds to stare at me.)

    Me: “Yes? Is there anything else, sir?”

    Customer: “Oh! I’m so sorry.”

    (He runs across the shop to the door, picks out two packets of sugar, and then runs back and hands them to me expectantly.)

    Me: “You want me to add them?”

    Customer: “Of course!”

    Me: “…okay.”

    (I add the packets myself while he watches. I replace the lid and hand it back, but he continues to stare at me.)

    Me: “Yes, sir?”

    Customer: “The sugar is just going to settle at the bottom if you don’t stir it!”

    Me: “The stirrers are provided for you at the condiment bar, sir.”

    Customer: “Oh, fine! I’ll just do it myself.”

    (He hustles out, grabbing a stirrer and clumsily trying to fix his coffee as he walks. My coworker stares at me.)

    Coworker: “Did he just make all the effort of running all over the shop, just to have you pour his sugar in?”

    Too Hot, Too Cold, Therein Lies The Rib

    | NY, USA | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

    (A woman orders a rack of ribs. The menu clearly states that it is a FULL rack. When they are ready, I immediately bring them to her table.)

    Customer: “Oh, my God, this is too much! Why didn’t you tell me this was so big? Can you bring these back and ask the chef to cut them in half and put half of them in a box?”

    Me: “Oh, sure. I’ll be right back.”

    (I go to the kitchen and tell the chef the customer’s request.)

    Chef: “Doesn’t she know what a FULL RACK of ribs is?”

    Me: “Apparently not.”

    (He is annoyed, but cuts the rack in half, and boxes half. I bring the box and the remaining ribs back out to the customer.)

    Customer: “Um, miss! These are cold! Why are you serving me cold food?”

    Me: “Well, I’m very sorry; they must have cooled down while I was bringing them back and having him cut them for you. I would be happy to—”

    Customer: “Go tell him to heat them up in a microwave! I’m not eating cold food!”

    Me: “Yes, ma’am, right away.”

    (I bring the ribs back. The chef looks like he wants to murder me.)

    Chef: “What now?”

    Me: “She says they’re cold.”

    Chef: “Give me the ribs.”

    (He puts them in the microwave for two minutes, and they are piping hot when they come out.)

    Chef: “Here, this should make her happy.”

    (I bring the ribs back to the table a third time. The woman obviously sees the steam rising from the plate, but immediately grabs the ribs. She drops them, crying out in pain.)

    Customer: “Ow! Why are these so hot? Don’t you test the food before you bring it out to make sure it’s not too hot?”

    Me: “Uh, I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t have any way to test it. It should be cool enough to eat in just a few seconds.”

    Customer: “What do you mean you can’t test it? Just touch it!”

    Me: “You want me to touch your food? With my hands?”

    Customer: “Yes! I don’t see what’s so hard about that! You kids these days! Honestly!”

    Me: “Enjoy your meal, ma’am.”


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