I find a new vegetarian restaurant I want to try out, so I place an order online. As part of the process, of course, I have to type in my full name. It’s relevant that I have a slightly unusual name, but it’s still similar to a common name and most people have no trouble with it. Let’s say it’s something like “Kellyn Smythe” instead of the more expected “Ellen Smith.”

I place the order and the restaurant’s website tells me it will take forty-three minutes for my food to be ready, which seems like a suspiciously long time for a salad, but hey, it’s the lunch rush. I stop by the restaurant twenty-five minutes later just to check on the progress, content to wait if my order isn’t ready. I check the shelf for takeout bags and don’t see any with my name.

Worker: “What was your order?”

Me: “Oh, it was an Asian salad, but it’s not supposed to be ready yet, so I don’t mind waiting.”

Worker: “We have it! Look again!”

Me: “I don’t think—”

Worker: “It’s definitely that one! Take it already!”

The bag has a name that’s nothing at all close to mine and is spelled with odd extra letters! It’s like “Chharlinn Ssplrythe.”

Me: “I don’t want to take someone else’s lunch!”

Worker: “It will get bad if you don’t eat it now! Don’t you want it?”

Me: “I really don’t think this is right, but okay, if you insist!”

The food turned out to be exactly what I ordered, even with a customization, so I guess it really was mine all along? Still, I have so many questions! Why was my food ready so early, and yet no one told me about it? And how could they mess up my name so much when I literally TYPED IT IN for them? So much that it didn’t even look like a name you could pronounce anymore? And why was the worker mad at me? At least the meal was delicious!

I am part of a social group consisting of former employees from a company I used to work with. We got along well, so we kept in touch, and we will occasionally meet up for lunch or bowling or similar activities.

On this particular occasion, we were eating out, and I was seated next to a guy who I’d never really interacted much with, so we made small talk to get to know each other. I talked about my new job and hobbies, and he shared about his “big business plan”.

In short, it was basically a hybrid of a pyramid scheme and a payday loan program. Get people to sign up, make a pool of money, use that money to help pay people’s debts. The more people you get to sign up, the more money you can call on to pay your debts. He made vague mention of investing the pool and using the interest for payments, but the whole thing just came across as very scummy.

Still, I was trying to be polite and not cause a scene, so I just smiled, nodded, and tried to change the subject. Unfortunately, he kept pressing with his idea and started asking if I could help with making him an app. I tried to decline politely, saying I was busy, but he eventually dropped this gem.

Acquaintance: “You just don’t know what it’s like to be desperate. People need help, and this will provide help quickly!”

I lost control of my mouth a bit.

Me: “The fact that you are taking advantage of them being desperate makes this worse, not better.”

And there went all my effort to keep things civil. He shoved his chair out and loomed up over the table, shouting at me for being “heartless” and “unwilling to help”. Other conversations in the group ground to a halt as they turned to look, the other patrons and employees were staring, and spittle was hitting my face. I was torn between leaving and staying, but at that point, a manager came over and said that [Acquaintance] needed to calm down. He looked like he was about to take a swing at the manager, but he finally flopped back down.

One of the other members of the group came over and offered to swap places with me, which I gratefully accepted. [Acquaintance] spent the rest of the meal glaring at everyone. I felt bad but only because I couldn’t hold my tongue enough to not set off the crazy.

I work in a restaurant. A woman called in yesterday to tell us her booking for four would be three. I tried to change her booking on the system, but it wouldn’t let me, so I just made a note to myself and told everyone else. This way, she’d get one of the smaller tables and we’d have the larger table free.

So, today, I come in and plan the tables. I stick her party at a nicer three-top, remembering her name and request. Her booking time rolls around, and she shows up with a group of four. She makes some fuss when my coworker says she is set for three.

Woman: “I called immediately after I changed it to change it back to four!”

That’s not the case; I would have been the one to pick up because I was next to the phone trying to fix the booking. It really isn’t a problem, though, because we actually have a four-top available, which we show her.

She loses it.

Woman: “I don’t like this table; it’s horrible! I booked for four! I can’t believe this!”

The thing is, even if I had planned her as a four, that’s the table she would have been assigned because we had earlier bookings take up the others. We close a section after a certain time and her booking fell after that time. My coworker offered our only other four-top, which was outside, and the weather was nice, but she didn’t like that, either. She wanted the nearby six-top — WTF? — but that was reserved for a party of six later. Her voice was getting loud and high and she was holding her face like she’s about to cry. Her kids stood there awkwardly, not sure if they were unhappy with the table or with their mother’s meltdown. My coworker looked like she was close to suggesting they went elsewhere.

I got the manager and took a quick break. I returned and was surprised to see that the group was still there and had accepted the table. The woman had to use the bathroom after her meltdown, and her kids and husband started laughing.

On her return, the atmosphere at the table turned VERY tense. The woman was apparently not happy she couldn’t choose more than one selection of an item when we only offer one with that dish. My manager had pointed to all the options on her menu and the rest had ordered in the correct way. They could have ordered different types and shared; that’s common. She hmphed and ughed but chose.

As my manager walked away, the daughter snapped at her mother, telling her to stop. They didn’t complain about anything else. They demanded some water after seeing that the six-top had been given nice fruit water. But the woman was uppity the whole time. She sneered at the manager as she left. The rest of her family was pleasant. It’s the first time I’ve seen a grown woman have such a loud and dramatic tantrum over something so trivial.

I own a restaurant. My little sister is trans, and in support of her, we’re doing a special offer for Pride month. Come in wearing anything rainbow — hat, shirt, pin, shoelaces, makeup, whatever — and your meal is 50% off, plus a free slice of rainbow swirl cheesecake. We’ve been advertising this pretty heavily on Facebook, so about three-quarters of our customers have some sort of rainbow on.

One night, I’m sat behind the bar watching the customers and employees do their thing. I see one of my servers talking to a man at a three-top — Mom, Dad, and their kid — and she seems pretty uncomfortable, so I head over.

Me: “Hi, my name is [My Name], and I’m the owner of this establishment. Is there anything I can help you with tonight?”

Bigot: “Is this a gay restaurant?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Bigot: “You know, like the gay bars. There’s a lot of [slur]s in here, and I’m starting to think this isn’t a family-friendly place.”

Me: *In an exaggerated lisp* “That’s not a problem for you, is it, sweetie? Surely a biiiiig strooooong man like yourself isn’t scared of some sissies.”

Bigot: *To his wife and kid* “Come on, we’re going to [Chain Restaurant].”

The server and I had a laugh, and then I gave her a few extra drink tickets for dealing with him.

Yes, this promotion is costing us money. No, we’re not going to be in the black this month. By my best estimate, I’m losing $12,000 doing this. Some things are more important than maximizing profits. I’m cool with losing a bit of money if it means a gay kid in my town might feel more comfortable coming out, or if it let some trans person know they have a safe place to be.

This story is part of the Pride Month 2023 roundup!

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I work at a restaurant. An older couple comes in. They order just one meal and say they’ll share. I bring the meal out to them. The wife motions me over after a couple of minutes.

Me: “What’s the problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “This entire plate is cold!”

She has fried chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes. I know it’s not cold because I just brought it out. She sticks her finger directly into the mashed potatoes.

Customer: “These are stone cold! I want a new meal!”

I go to take the old plate and she stops me.

Customer: “Oh, no. We’ll keep this one since it’ll be a while before our hot food comes out.”

Me: “Ma’am, I have to take the plate.”

Customer: “I demand to see your manager!”

Surprise, surprise! My manager speaks to her and lets them keep the plate because they’re being a**holes but asks the cooks to make a new one anyway.

I bring out the second meal to the table and they eat. I bring them the bill — for just one meal and their drinks.

Customer: “Why isn’t there a discount? Our food came out cold!”

Me: “Ma’am, you got two meals for the price of one.”

And I walked away.

For the remainder of my time there, they never came back.