I work in a casual restaurant, and we have seasonal outdoor seating available. It’s a little windy but otherwise temperate, and this group of ladies would rather sit outside and eat than wait for an inside table to open up. They all order drinks and they seem pretty chill. One of the women orders a golden beet goat cheese walnut salad, one of my favorites.

When I later go to check on their meal, there’s a whiff of apprehension in the air.

Me: “How is everything?”

The woman with the salad hands me her plate.

Woman: “I’m sorry, but there’s a bug in my salad.”

This has happened often enough — sometimes a ladybug, worm, or small spider — and without thinking, I grab the plate and reassure her.

Me: “That’s not a problem. We’ll fix you up a new one.”

I’m walking back to the kitchen and looking through the plate, but I don’t see anything. We’re pretty slammed in the kitchen, but I let the expediter know:

Me: “Hey, a guest says she found a bug in her salad. Can you fire me up a new one?”

It’s just an appetizer, so shouldn’t take more than thirty seconds.

The kitchen manager is right there, and he ignores the piling stack of tickets to argue and make a scene.

Kitchen Manager: “I just made that salad. There’s no f****** way!”

He digs in with two gloved hands and starts rifling through the salad, contents spilling out all over the counter and floor.

Okay, now we DEFINITELY need to make her a new one.

Kitchen Manager: “Where? I don’t see bugs anywhere! What kind of bug was it?”

Me: “I… I don’t know, I just kind of took her word for it.”

He throws the plate back at me.

Kitchen Manager: “There’s nothing wrong with her salad. Take it back out.”

I nod solemnly, walk it out halfway, and then turn around and dump it in the dish pit. I’ll just ring in a new one and have a manager void it.

I feel like an idiot, so I head back out to inquire.

Me: “Hey ma’am, we’re fixing you up a new salad, but we looked through the plate and didn’t find anything. What kind of bug was it?”

Woman: “A fly. It landed in my salad.”

And now I feel like a total moron.

Me: “Umm, you’re sitting outside. We can’t control whatever pests or elements of nature are flying around.”

Woman: “Yes, well, can’t you install lights or nets to keep bugs out?”

I don’t know how to respond.

Me: “Would you like us to move you inside if a table opens up?”

Woman: “No, we’re fine. And I think I’ll have the Frisée, instead.”

Today, I’m working a double shift as a server in the morning and an expediter for the evening shift. The server that is taking over my section agrees to take a table of seventeen as I am finishing cleaning my section, and I begin helping him set up.

They’re all starting to walk over, and I head to the back, clock out and then back in, put on my apron, and get to work pulling food. The next thing I know, the server that took over for me is coming back.

Server: “How many people did the host say were in that party?”

Me: “Seventeen. Why?”

Server: “There are around twenty-eight people all seating themselves in closed and reserved tables, and they’re talking about more people on the way!”

My manager makes her way over to the party.

Manager: “Why did you lie about the number of people in your party?”

They make up some excuse.

Customer: “Well, there were seventeen people here, but it’s going to be around thirty-two total.”

Manager: “You won’t be able to order your food until the majority of our screen is cleared so the kitchen won’t be swamped. And the rest of your party will have to sit in different sections; one server can’t handle this many people.”

Customer: “This is for my daughter’s seventeenth birthday! You’re being racist. It’s not that big of a deal! Other people can wait because it is my daughter’s birthday!”

Manager: “You are being very loud and disturbing our other guests. You will need to leave if you keep it up.”

Suddenly, the whole party gets loud, and there is so much arguing and yelling that my manager tells them to leave.

At first, they stay, and they keep calling other servers to get them drinks and take their orders, but my manager tells them to leave or she’ll call the police. They then decide to cut the cake, and they yell the Happy Birthday song in multiple different versions for around ten minutes.

My manager walks over again.

Manager: “The police are on their way.”

They started threatening her and telling her and other staff members to meet them outside. Once they heard sirens — for an unrelated police call — they all took off.

When the police did arrive, they spoke to the manager, got the phone number one of the guests had given at the host stand, and watched the tapes.

Hopefully, there will be some legal consequences.

I am on vacation visiting my family and we decided to eat at a grill and bar. It’s an early Sunday morning so the bar is closed.

There is a couple sitting in a booth way back in the corner by the bar, where no one else is seated. I only notice them when I get lost trying to find the bathroom. I am confused by them because they have no menu, drink, food, or anything and are sitting in silence. Once my family gets our food, the wife walks up to our waitress.

Wife: “How are they getting their food when we haven’t even gotten our drinks yet?!”

Waitress: “Oh, sorry, ma’am, what did you order? I’ll go get them for you and find your server.”

Wife: “WE HAVEN’T EVEN GOT THE CHANCE TO ORDER OUR DRINKS! We haven’t seen our server in ages!”

Waitress: “Oh, no, I am so sorry! Who was your server?”

Wife: “Some short blonde with a ponytail.”

Waitress: “Ma’am, she clocked out ages ago. She told us there was no one left in her section. We had no idea you were here, I apologize.” *Pulls out an order pad* “I can take your order back right now and expedite it.”

Wife: *Still red in the face and mad* “I’m getting a [breakfast item #1] and my husband would like a [breakfast item #2]. And I’m not paying for either of those.”

Waitress: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but breakfast ended at 11:00. It’s past 12:00 now; all the breakfast ingredients have been put away. Would you like to look at the menu again and I’ll come back to you?”

Wife: “That doesn’t matter. We got here at 10:30; we were on time!”

I am beyond annoyed now, so I decide to be a little passive-aggressive.

Me: *In a loud “whisper” to my family* “Wow, you would think someone would have enough sense to go and find someone if they were sitting for an hour and a half!”

Wife: *Flustered* “Well, well… Go get us a lunch menu and we’ll let you take our order when we’re ready!” *Stomps off*

Waitress: *Turns to us* “I’m so sorry about that.”

Me: “It’s not your fault she’s a bat.”

Sister: “Yeah, she’s being ridiculous.”

Waitress: “Thank you.”

She seems genuinely shaken up by the whole thing. I think it’s all over with until I can hear the woman shouting from across the restaurant.

Wife: “…AND I HOPE YOU KNOW I’M CALLING THE OWNER ABOUT YOU! TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE SERVICE! YOU IGNORED US FOR HOURS! YOU WOULDN’T FILL OUR ORDER BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE MAKING IT! I SWEAR, IF YOUR MANAGER WAS HERE…”

On and on and on. I am not a confrontational person, but I still feel the need to do something. I get a piece of paper and a pen from my mom’s purse and write a full report on what happened.

Our server had no way of knowing they were there; it was the other server’s fault for not telling anyone she sat them, and they were probably just sniffing for a discount because they intentionally waited as long as possible to find a server. I talk about how well our waitress handled the situation and how she is much more patient than I. I sign it and add my email address. I see the waitress coming back, looking near tears.

Me: “Miss, here.” *Hands her the paper* “I’m your witness if they try and complain about you.”

My family claimed that was very “extra” and unnecessary, but as someone who’s worked in the service industry, I wish someone would’ve done this for me.

I work in a Chinese restaurant taking orders over the phone.

Customer: “Can I have [item] with fried rice?”

Me: “What kind of fried rice?”

Customer: “Fried rice.”

Me: “But what kind of fried rice?”

Customer: “Fried.”

Related:
Brain Fried

A few years ago, I worked a couple of seasons as a receptionist/everything that was needed at an inn in a really popular tourist city. Due to the location, next to the main road that crosses the city, our restaurant was open to everyone, not only the guests.

The restaurant had some outdoor tables next to the parking area. A lot of locals used our terrace/parking as a shortcut from the main road to the school that was on the other side. We also were the first restaurant that people that were going to the regional hospital would find.

Every morning, we had the ambulance crews eating breakfast. We liked them, they all knew us, and my manager very often would make them some discounts. They didn’t want us to give them free things. Several times, we had them leave in a rush because they got a call. They would eventually come back later to pay for everything, apologizing that they left without paying. We always told them to not worry about that. Our relationship with most of them was great.

One day, a paramedic and his colleagues came to eat lunch after work. It happened to be one of the busiest days in the restaurant and the inn, so our attention was split between attending the customers at the tables and at the bar, serving food, clearing tables, and accepting customers to the rooms. Usually, we try to clean the tables shortly after the customers leave, but that day was chaotic. We were understaffed and starting to be overwhelmed; even the kitchen staff had to go out sometimes to help clean the tables. With all that was going on, we didn’t even notice when the guy paid and left with his friends.

Apparently, the paramedic forgot his phone on their table outside, the closest table to the open sidewalk. We had signs stating that we were not responsible for lost items. He came the next day in his paramedic uniform.

Paramedic: “Did you happen to find a phone at that table over there?”

Me: “I personally didn’t, but I’ll ask my colleagues.”

I checked the lost items box, but nothing was there, nor had any of my colleagues found anything, so I went back to the man.

Me: “Unfortunately, we haven’t found a phone.”

At this point, he dropped his nice-guy facade and started yelling at me.

Paramedic: “You don’t respect what we do for you! I’m sure that you decided to keep the phone for yourself because you don’t earn enough to afford one. You filthy thief! I know it was you because you are the one that served us yesterday. YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME MY PHONE BACK NOW!”

I looked at him, astonished, still trying to comprehend what was happening.

Me: “Sir, as you know, our terrace is open to everyone, and we are not responsible for items you leave on the tables.”

Paramedic: “Don’t give me that bulls***! I know you pick up items from the tables when people leave them!”

Me: “Yes, that is, if we spot them. Unfortunately, yesterday was a really busy day, and we weren’t able to keep up with the cleaning, so we didn’t see what was left on your table. That is, of course, if anything was left there.”

He clearly didn’t like my answer.

Paramedic: “How dare you call me a liar?! I come here to eat every day and you offer me this s***ty service? I’m going to sue you unless you give me my phone back, NOW.”

Me: “I see that you don’t understand. I can’t give you something we don’t have here.”

Paramedic: “Fine, you wanted it!”

And he stormed off.

I thought that was it. I just got my coffee and went for a break.

A day passed, and I was doing the closing shift. The restaurant closed at 11:00 pm, and this guy shows up five minutes before.

Paramedic: “Have you found my phone yet?”

Me: “I told you that I can’t find something that is not here.”

Suddenly, he decided to act calm.

Paramedic: “I’m not interested in the phone itself, but on it, I had pictures of my children and our trips. If I don’t get it back, I will lose that.”

Me: “That is really sad. I wish I could help you with that. Trust me, if I had found the phone, you would get it back.”

He dropped the calm act.

Paramedic: “You clearly don’t care about customer service; you only care about the money. You took my phone and sold it somewhere. I want you to give me my phone back now or I’ll take legal actions.”

I was done.

Me: “Perfect. Go ahead, as long as you leave now because it’s past closing time.”

He left quickly, mumbling under his breath.

The next day was Sunday. I came to the restaurant for my evening shift. On Sundays, the owner of the company came to eat lunch there with his family. He usually sat close to the register to keep a track of everything and make sure there were no problems.

Thirty minutes into my shift, the paramedic appeared again. He came straight to the counter.

Paramedic: “Are you ready to give me my phone back?”

Me: “I’ve been telling you for the last three days, we don’t have your phone here. If you left it outside, it’s your fault”

Paramedic: “You all are going to regret this! I know the chief of the police; he’s going to send the whole CSI here and they’ll find my phone. Your restaurant is going to be closed down. You all are going to regret this! That is unless you give me the phone. Do you want me to go there?”

Me: “Look. I don’t know what you want to do with your free time when you leave here. I can barely control what you do when you’re inside. If you want to go to the police, go ahead. Just leave and stop disturbing my customers.”

He stormed off, slamming the door behind him.

As I turned around and sighed, the owner got up and asked me quietly to come with him to the kitchen. Once there, he asked me what this was all about. I explained to him what had happened in the last few days. Then, he said with the tone of a father trying to cheer up his child:

Owner: “You handled it really professionally. I’m glad to have you here. Don’t worry about that guy; you haven’t done anything bad. If he actually goes to the police, you have no need to talk with them. You’re just a worker here. Just give them the number of your manager and don’t make any statements if you don’t want to. It’s the management’s job to deal with it.”

A few minutes later, the owner left with his family, and my colleague and I returned to our jobs. Two hours later, the front door opened, and in came two police officers, clearly annoyed with having to leave their desks to deal with something.

Officer: “Do you know what we are here for?”

Me: “I have a slight idea, but it would be better if you state it, Officer.”

Officer: “We received a complaint that a phone got stolen here.”

Me: “If you’re referring to the guy that keeps claiming that we stole his phone, no one in the restaurant has any idea what phone he’s talking about.”

Officer: “Well, the problem is that the phone has to appear and be returned to him. Otherwise, someone will have to be charged with theft and illegal appropriation.”

I could see where this was headed, and I was too tired of dealing with this matter.

Me: “Look, Officer, I’m just a simple worker here. Since you’re threatening the company with legal charges, I will give you my manager’s phone number. I will not say anything else regarding this matter to you.”

I gave them the number, and they thanked me and left.

Fortunately, the paramedic didn’t come back that day, nor did any more police. I seriously thought I had finally gotten rid of the guy. Silly me.

The next day, I came in at 6:00 am and got everything started up. Suddenly, the door opened and there was the paramedic.

Paramedic: “So? Did you like the police visit? Are you going to give me my phone back?”

Me: “Can you just get over it? I can’t give you something I don’t have. I’ve been telling you this since last week.”

Paramedic: “I’m going to tell everyone not to come here. All you do is steal from your customers. I’m going to get you fired and get your restaurant closed! I will tell all my colleagues to stop coming here if they don’t want to get robbed. I have connections in the newspapers and TV stations. The whole country will know that you steal from your customers. You are going to get cancelled!”

And he left.

At 9:00 am, my manager came to work. As he was checking the bookings in the system, I approached him.

Me: “The guy with the phone was here this morning again. He said that he’ll go with the story to all the newspapers and TV — that he’ll make sure everyone knows how we treat our customers.”

My manager looked at me and started laughing.

Manager: “That’s great! Free advertisement for us!”

We never heard of him again. The ambulance crews kept coming, and the man’s threats remained just that — threats.

This story is part of our Not Always Right Most-Epic Stories roundup!

Read the next roundup story!

Read the roundup!