I was having lunch at this restaurant last Sunday with my friend. All the other tables were occupied. Two girls appeared, but since it was packed and there were no empty tables or vacant seats, they just stood there awkwardly, looking around, waiting for some people to get up and leave.

Me: “We’re almost finished. You can have our table after we leave.”

But instead of being thankful, they just threw me a dirty look and rolled their eyes as if I were trying to flirt with them. My face went red, and I didn’t know what to say. I was just trying to be nice. It wasn’t as if I was trying to initiate small talk with them or something. Then, my embarrassment turned to anger. The least they could do was just nod their heads.

Then, I heard one of them speak to the other.

Girl #1: “Maybe we should just go to another restaurant.”

Girl #2: “No, this is the only Chinese restaurant near our place. And that guy—” *points at me with her lips in a not-so-subtle way* “—is almost done.”

Fine. I raised my hand and called a waitress over.

Me: “We would like to have a few more drinks, please.”

She brought them out a few minutes later. My friend was trying so hard to stifle his laughter that I swear he broke a rib or two as we VERY slowly ate the rest of our meal. The rude girls left quickly soon after.

I am discussing some menu alterations with a kitchen worker when I see one of our new waitstaff walking out into the restaurant with an odd-looking drink. I call out to him.

Me: “Hey! [New Hire]! What… is that?”

New Hire: “Oh! Soapy water. I don’t know why the guy ordered it, but I guess he likes to wash his hands at the table or something?”

Me: “Are you sure he didn’t ask for… soda water?”

A few moments of cogs turning…

New Hire: “Yeah, that makes more sense.”

Hopefully, the customer enjoyed his soda water more than some washing-up liquid in a glass.

I work as a shift lead at a local restaurant with a drive-thru. There’s been some concern about credit card fraud recently, so management has asked us to check IDs if something seems like it might be amiss, but they’re also not particularly strict since the restaurant is rather small.

Mostly, we ask if the back has “See ID” in place of a signature or if the card name doesn’t fit the customer’s gender; in the latter case, management is all right with assuming the customer is the holder’s spouse, sibling, etc., as we get a lot of orders for families. It’s worth noting that, to my knowledge, this has not yet caused problems.

One evening, a middle-aged woman pulls up to the window to pay with a masculine name on the card. I’m changing the names here, so we’ll go with “Fred”.

Me: “All right, could I ask for some ID?”

The woman immediately flips from pleasant to hostile.

Customer: “You’re really gonna make me do this?”

Me: “Er, yes, please? Management has asked us to check for security reasons.”

She eventually hands over an ID, still glaring daggers at me. I glance over it and am met with her face over the words, “Fred [Matching Last Name].” Same face, same name. The rest isn’t my business. I run the payment, give her back the cards, and politely let her know her order will be up shortly. Apparently, though, additional information is warranted at high volume. 

Customer: “MY NAME IS LINDA!”

I get how that could be awkward on the receiving end, but I really don’t care what you call yourself. I want to do my job and go home. With any luck, I’ll never see you again anyway.

I work as a server in a steakhouse. One day, a family comes in and orders steak. Pretty normal. We get them their steaks, and pretty much immediately, they start complaining.

Customer: “Either your knives are dull, or the steak is too tough!”

The chef walks out there and looks at them trying to cut through the steak.

Chef: “Why are you using the back side of the knives?”

The family flipped the knives over at the chef’s request, and the steak cut perfectly well.

I have served a table with two young guys who both ordered a rather large amount of food. I go back to check on them after seating a larger table to see that they have dined and dashed. I forlornly go to inform my manager.

Manager: “But… they booked using their membership account. We have, like… all their details! We even have the credit card details they used that we charge a no-show fee with!”

Me: “So, what are you going to do?”

Manager: “I’m about to see how far I can push our ‘automatic gratuity’ percentage!”

Their bill came to over $120, and the system allowed my manager to charge their card a 100% gratuity charge, effectively bringing their bill to $240!

A few days later, my manager tells me he got this phone call.

Caller: “Why do I have a f****** $240 charge from you guys on my Amex?!”

After looking up the details.

Manager: “Ah, yes, that would be the young gentleman with the Chicago Cubs jersey who dined with us at the weekend. He and his friend skipped out on the bill, but they left their credit card details with us via an online booking.”

There followed a few moments of silence while the caller processed this.

Caller: “…That was my son.”

Manager: “As I surmised.”

Caller: “And you’re telling me he ran out without paying?”

Manager: “Yes, as confirmed by both my waitstaff and our camera footage.”

Caller: “Even though they made a reservation online using my credit card.”

Manager: “That appears to be the case, yes, sir.”

Caller: “Those stupid motherf***ers!” *Click*

Literally the next day, I see one of those young diners enter the restaurant with his stern-looking father.

Said father makes his son apologize and makes him give us another $100 cash as a tip.

Father: “That’s his allowance. It’s not my money this time. And because of this, he’ll be working for me… for free… until he goes to college!”

Manager: “Thank you, sir. We appreciate it.”

Father: “Hopefully, college will teach him not to be so f****** stupid!” 

They both left, and we all burst out laughing.