I’m at a restaurant with some friends from my high school cross country team. We’re placing our orders. One friend’s order has some options he needs to choose from.

Waiter: “Super salad?”

Friend: “Well, I don’t know if I’m that hungry… How big is it?”

Waiter: *Confused* “Um, which? The super salad?”

Friend: “Yeah, like it is as big as the entree?”

Waiter: “The super salad?”

Friend: “Yes.”

The conversation goes on like this for a couple of minutes, everyone’s confusion growing more and more, until finally, something dawns on the waiter…

Waiter: “Um, do you want salad or soup?”

Friend: “Oh! Side salad, please, with Italian dressing.”

It’s a pity we weren’t a baseball team!

The restaurant I work in prides itself on locally sourced food, e.g. meat from local farms, local dairies, seafood directly from fishermen down the coast, and we grow all of our own veg. Because of this, we also have sourced a British sparkling wine to serve rather than prosecco.

One afternoon, a lady walks up to the bar where I am serving and asks for a glass of prosecco.

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t actually sell prosecco, but we do have a locally sourced, British sparkling wine that’s very similar! I actually prefer it to prosecco. Would you like to try that, instead?”

Customer: *Stares at me blankly* “No, I’ll have prosecco, thanks.”

Me: “I understand, ma’am, but we don’t sell prosecco. We have this British sparkling wine, instead!”

I take the bottle out of the fridge to show her in the hope that she’ll understand. She looks back and forth between me and the bottle for a moment before saying anything.

Customer: “So, you don’t have any prosecco?”

Me: “No, unfortunately not, ma’am. Just this. Unless you would prefer champagne—”

She cuts me off before I can finish the question.

Customer: “What’s the difference?”

Our training for working in the restaurant enforces a high level of product knowledge on everything we sell, including its history, so I explain that prosecco is an Italian sparkling wine, whereas this is a British sparkling wine so the grapes are grown in the UK and the wine is made and bottled here, too. I emphasize the importance of locally sourced products and why we’re excited to sell it.

The customer, however, begins to look more and more confused and just sighs in exasperation.

Customer: *Whines* “I just want prosecco! Why is that so difficult to understand?”

She turns to her boyfriend.

Customer: “Can you believe this? Does she not know what prosecco is?!”

At this point, my manager, who has been watching the whole thing, intervenes.

Manager: “Don’t worry, miss. I’ll sort you out a glass of prosecco. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you?”

She beams at him and sits down with her boyfriend at the table closest to the bar. My manager turns around so his back is to her, takes the bottle of sparkling wine off me, gets a glass, and pours it. He walks over to her and waits for her to take a sip to make sure she’s happy with it before leaving them.

Customer: “Oh, that’s perfect! Just what I wanted! And it’s not that British s***, is it?”

Manager: *Knowing that it’s illegal to mis-sell alcohol* “It is, in fact, our house sparkling wine; it’s made right here in the UK, just outside of London!”

Customer: “Wow! I didn’t know England made wine!”

You could probably hear how hard I rolled my eyes. 

Related:
Prosecco-No-No

A customer hands me a handful of change to pay for her food. I count and it comes up short.

Me: “Oh… I need another fifty cents.”

Customer: “That big one is a dollar.”

I point at the largest coin in the stack.

Me: “This is fifty cents.”

She handed me two quarters and we finished the transaction. She called the store later to complain and I got in trouble. Apparently, not letting her use a fifty-cent piece as a dollar was rude?

Back in the depths of time, when I was in high school, one of my friends was notoriously cheap. He had money but loathed spending it on anything except his hobbies. I was driving back to town after taking the group to a convention when we decided to pull over at a chain restaurant for lunch. The waiter handed us the menus and asked us what we wanted to drink.

Me: “Iced tea, please.”

Friend #2: “Coke.”

Friend #3: “Coffee.”

Friend #1: “I’ll just have water.”

The rest of us rolled our eyes at that but looked through the menus and decided what we wanted to eat. [Friend #1] spent a lot of time checking the menu for the cheapest item and was still at it when the waiter returned.

Waiter: “Have we decided what we’re having?”

Friend #2: “I’ll have a cheeseburger and onion rings.”

Friend #3: “Could I get [restaurant specialty meal]?”

Me: “I’d like a cheeseburger and fries.”

[Friend #1] was silent.

Waiter: “Sir? Are you ready to order?”

Friend #1: “I’d like the a la mode.”

Everyone at the table sat there in shock. The waiter rallied quickly.

Waiter: “You said you wanted a la mode?”

Friend #1: “That’s all I want.”

Waiter: “Uh… most people have that with pie.”

Friend #1: “Nope. I’ll just have the a la mode.”

He handed the waiter his menu.

Waiter: “O… kay. One a la mode it is.”

The waiter headed for the kitchen to put in our order and we all rounded on [Friend #1].

All Of Us: “What the h*** is wrong with you? Who the h*** orders a la mode by itself? It’s supposed to be served on a slice of pie!”

Friend #1: “It’s the cheapest thing on the menu.”

Our food was quickly brought out to us, and [Friend #1] got a very small scoop of vanilla ice cream served on an otherwise empty saucer. We mocked him mercilessly throughout the meal and during the drive back to town. 

Me: “A la mode may have been the cheapest item on the menu, but it wasn’t the cheapest thing in that restaurant.”

Friend #1: *Looking interested* “What was the cheapest thing at the restaurant?”

All Of Us: “YOU!”

I have just started working at a restaurant. An elderly man is seated at one of my tables, one of my very first customers.

Me: “Hi, my name is [My Name] and I’ll be your waitress. Do you know what you’d like to—”

Customer: “Spaghetti.”

Me: “Okay, the spaghetti and meatballs, and would you like soup or salad with that?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Oh, uh, it’s included with your meal—”

Customer: “NO!”

Me: “Okay, no soup or salad, just spaghetti and meatballs, is that right?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll go get that started for you.”

When his food is ready, I bring it out to him.

Customer: “What the h*** is this? Where’s my salad?”

Me: “Oh, uh, well, you said you didn’t want one—”

Customer: “You’re supposed to bring the salad first!”

Me: “Okay, uh, sorry, I’ll go get your salad. Did you want Caesar, or—”

Customer: “No! Regular salad!”

I go back into the kitchen and ask the person at the salad station to make me one. While I’m waiting, I mention to another waiter what happened.

Coworker: “Oh, yeah, he’s a regular. He always gets salad and spaghetti.”

Me: “He was pretty adamant about not wanting a soup or salad.”

Coworker: *Shrug* “Weird.” 

Once the salad’s ready, I bring it back out to him.

Customer: “You know, no one’s ever gotten this wrong before.”

He didn’t tip.