When I was sixteen, I worked at a family-owned Italian restaurant as a waitress.

Customer: “I want extra dressing for my salad, but I don’t want to pay for extra.”

Me: “Sir, it’s only 35¢.”

He thought that flirting with me would change his mind. After I denied him a few times, he complained and threatened me, so I placed him in the hands of my manager. After ten minutes of back-and-forth with my manager:

Customer: “I’m not going to pay the bill!”

Manager: “You can either pay the bill and leave or the cops will be called because you’re causing a disturbance.”

He left the table to go to the bathroom and ended up calling the cops. He made up a whole story about how we were threatening him and followed him to the bathroom. I had to give a statement. He wasn’t arrested but he was banned. All over 35¢.

A few months after our first child is born, my mother offers to come over for a night so my husband and I can get out for date night. We haven’t had a proper date since the baby was born, and she insists we should stay out as late as we want and not worry about hurrying back. She tells us if we get back late enough, we’ll find her asleep on the couch, but that we shouldn’t worry about getting back but rather enjoy ourselves.

We’re thrilled to take her up on this offer and head out to the local steakhouse chain we enjoy. Unfortunately, we’ve forgotten that it’s graduation weekend in our college town and the place is packed. We approach the hostess, who tells us it will be about an hour before we can get a table. Since we have carte blanche to be out, we tell her no problem, put our name in, and walk around some local stores.

As soon as we sit, our harried server comes over and immediately launches into an apology.

Server: “I’m sorry in advance for tonight, but it’s graduation weekend and three of our other servers called in sick. We’ll do our best to get everything out to you, but I wanted to make you aware up front that it might be a little slower than you were hoping for.”

Husband: “Not a problem. We have a free babysitter for the evening and are in literally no rush at all to leave. We’ll be fine.”

She thanks him, gets our drink orders, and comes back in what feels like a completely normal amount of time to take our order. Our food also comes out in what feels like a reasonable amount of time for a busy Saturday night, much less a crazy, packed Saturday night, but she continues to apologize for service being slow.

We continue to reassure her that we’re in no rush and are happy to enjoy a night out. We go so far as to order dessert. Honestly, but for the noise level and the fact that the restaurant is at capacity the entire time, nothing seems off or slow.

At the end of the night, the manager brings the bill himself.

Manager: “My server tells me you two have been so understanding and kind given the rush we’re having this evening, so I wanted to let you know dessert was on the house tonight and we hope you’ll come back soon.”

Us: “The service and food have been great, and we really didn’t notice any negative effects from the graduation rush.”

Manager: “Unfortunately, some of our other guests have… felt differently and chosen to express those views loudly and rudely, so we’re very appreciative of our understanding guests.”

When we picked up the check, not only had he taken our desserts off, but he’d snuck coupons for a free appetizer and a free dessert underneath!

Related:
You Catch More Flies With Honey Than Vinegar

I work at a burger joint in the middle of a small city. Some dude walks in with the most condescending look on his face as he looks around our establishment. We advertise as a place that caters to dietary needs, including vegetarian, vegan, organic, and religious diets. This dude at least doesn’t look like the type such a place caters to, but I don’t get paid to judge. He orders a typical burger (the joint’s default), but with no salt on the patties. That’s not a problem; people have done this before. We easily prepare an unsalted double-patty burger.

This time, however, when he bites it, his face is a look of disgust.

Me: “Is something wrong, sir?”

Customer: “There’s way too much salt on this burger!”

Me: “That’s strange. We didn’t put any salt on your burger, as you asked.”

Customer: “As if! When I say no salt, I mean it! I am on a no-salt diet as per my doctor’s orders!”

Me: “Oh, really? Well, why didn’t you say that to begin with? Let me just make a new burger for you.”

Our place has special policies the moment a medical history or specific diet is mentioned. We take dietary restrictions very seriously; it isn’t just some bulls*** for marketing.

Four minutes later, I hand him a lettuce-wrapped double-patty with no pickles or bacon.

Customer: “The f*** is this s***? This isn’t a burger!”

Me: “Actually, sir, it is a properly salt-free burger, as you requested.”

Customer: “But there’s not even a bun!”

Me: “Our burger buns are made with salt.”

The customer studies the burger closely.

Customer: “Where are the toppings I asked for?!”

Me: “Our bacon and pickles are both heavily salted. Since your salt-free request is the result of a dietary restriction, not just a request, we are obligated to remove any instances of the ingredient in question. Don’t worry; we didn’t charge you for the bacon.”

The customer then bit into the burger.

Customer: “This is terrible! This lettuce wrap is far inferior, and the meat is tasteless.”

Well, I’m sorry, sir, but not only did YOU ASK for no salt (hence the tastelessness), you triggered our establishment’s dietary policy by making your request based on a medical need.

My manager had to explain to him that if he wanted a new burger, he would have to pay for it.

I am serving two ladies at lunch at a casual dining establishment.

Customer #1: “I’ll have the beef stew.”

Customer #2: “I don’t eat meat; what do you recommend?

Me: “Our most popular vegetarian dish is a mixture of grilled vegetables in an herbed tomato sauce, served on a European-style homemade noodle, topped with feta cheese.”

Customer #2: “Hmm, I don’t know about the noodles. Can I have it with rice noodles?”

Me: “Certainly!”

I get them served. When I check on them, she is quite unhappy.

Customer #2: “It’s not very tasty. I think I would rather have a bowl of that.”

She gestures at her companion’s dish.

Me: “But, ma’am, that is a beef stew… I thought you didn’t eat meat?”

Customer #2: “I don’t eat meat, but I eat beef.”

Sucks when your vegetables on rice noodles just don’t have the same flavour as a beefy stew served with buttery potatoes!

The restaurant I work in has a beautiful outdoor dining area that looks over the gardens of the property. Guests are allowed to sit out there for meals or just for drinks.

We are training a new waitress that has zero experience in hospitality and is still learning the ropes. We’ve sent her to a table outside with some drinks for a couple, but she trips on one of the patio stones right as she gets to the table and spills one of the drinks onto the lady’s bag that she has placed on the table. Before the new waitress can even apologise, the woman starts screaming at her loud enough for us to hear inside the restaurant.

Customer: “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU STUPID GIRL! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE THIS BAG IS?!”

The new waitress is so shocked that she is stuttering and close to tears, so I run out with some towels to help her clean up the mess, and I tell her to go back inside and ask the bartender to replace the drink. I notice that only some of the drink has landed on the outside of the handbag, which is leather so it’s easy to wipe off and clean; most of it is on the table or on the floor.

Me: *Trying my best to be calm and polite* “I am so sorry about that, madam. We’ll get that replaced for you right away. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Customer: *Scoffs* “You’re not sorry! You’re happy this happened!”

Me: *Confused* “I’m sorry, madam, but I don’t understand. I sincerely wish this hadn’t happened. Our waitress is new and I’m sorry that she made a mistake but—”

Customer: “YOU AREN’T SORRY! LOOK AT YOUR FACE! YOU’RE SMILING! YOU’RE JEALOUS OF ME AND SENT HER TO RUIN MY DESIGNER HANDBAG!”

I am absolutely baffled that someone is angry at me for trying to maintain my professionalism and that she believes that my sole purpose today was to ruin her handbag, which, after a bit more admiring, is clearly not designer.

I try to reassure her that I am not smiling at her misery and I am just trying to be professional and resolve the problem, but she continues to yell and scream about how we are all in on a joke to ruin her bag.

Her date has just sat there the whole time ignoring her tantrum, clearly embarrassed. By now, she has made such a fuss that other tables are all staring, and my manager gets involved, so I leave to retrieve her replacement drink.

On my way back to the table, my manager informs me that we’re giving her the drinks complimentary and that none of us should approach her smiling, per her request!

Me: *Monotone, without smiling* “Your drink, madam.”

Customer: “Geez, what’s your problem?! You could at least try and act happy. It’s not your designer handbag that’s ruined!”

I scream internally, but before I can walk away, her date stands up and yells.

Customer’s Date: “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LEAVE THEM ALONE! You got that bag from f****** [Discount Store], not Prada! Get over yourself!”

He then stormed out of the restaurant and got in his car without her. I stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds before the woman got up and chased after him, leaving the two complimentary drinks behind. I gave one of them to the new waitress to calm her nerves and had the other to help me through the rest of the day!