I work at a specific type of Brazilian restaurant called a churrascaria. I go around tables with different cuts of BBQ meat and occasional sides and give them out until the diners can’t eat anymore! It’s fun; you should try it!

A specific customer has been double-checking everything I serve.

Customer: “And what meat is this?”

Me: “These are chicken thighs, sir.”

Next round:

Customer: “And what meat is this?”

Me: “Beef.”

Rinse and repeat, until I come around with a bowl this time.

Customer: “And what meat is this?”

Me: “Sir, those are potatoes.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “…”

Customer: “That was a stupid question, wasn’t it?”

He looks at the table where the family is dining with him, and luckily, they haven’t noticed his question.

Customer: “I love potatoes! Give me ten!”

Me: “Sir, of course, I can if you like, but these are quite heavy, and more rounds of meat are—”

Customer: “I’ll take them!”

I think he might be doing it in some weird way of saving face, but the customer wants ten potatoes, so the customer shall have ten potatoes.

I come around with more meat and I see that only two potatoes have been eaten.

Customer: “It was probably stupid of me to ask for ten, wasn’t it?”

They finish eating and pay their bill. I notice that the customer has given me a 25% tip, with a note next to the tip line: “Thanks for not telling my wife.”

Customer’s Wife: “Oh, let me get a copy of the receipt.”

She reaches out and takes the receipt and sees the note on the tip line.

Customer’s Wife: “Honey, what is this?”

Customer: *To me* “In hindsight, considering my wife does our accounting, that wasn’t a wise thing to leave on my receipt, was it?”

Me: “Sir, you have to stop asking me these questions, or I’m going to have to answer honestly.”

They took the potatoes in a to-go box.

CONTENT WARNING: Child Neglect, Gross Body Function

I work at a restaurant located inside a club, so whilst we do have some authority to tell people off, ultimately, it is the club’s responsibility to do so.

On a busy night, I notice that some couple has their baby sitting on the table, and they’re letting it crawl around, but seeing how busy it is and the fact that the tables are being replaced that week, I let it slide.

The next thing I know, I hear a thud and a baby crying, and I overhear this lovely conversation between the club staff and parents.

Dad: “You f***ers let my baby fall off the table! She could have brain damage now thanks to you f***ers!”

Club Staff: “Sir, why was your baby on the table in the first place?”

Dad: “That doesn’t f****** matter! What the f*** are you gonna do about it?!”

Mum: “You’d better be giving us a full refund after the piss-poor way we’ve been treated!”

Club Staff: “Sir, I repeat, why was your baby on the table?”

Dad: “Because you f***ers have no seats for children!”

Club Staff: “Firstly, sir, we have plenty of high chairs available; you only need to ask. Secondly, it’s extremely unhygienic to have your baby sitting on a table that’s used for food. Lastly, it’s your responsibility to look after your children, not ours.”

Mum: “Like f*** it is! We’ve come out for dinner. Doesn’t mean we gotta look after the little s***s.”

The baby is still crying, and neither parent is making an attempt to calm them.

Club Staff: “It is not our responsibility to look after your children, and I’ll ask that you keep the language down; we have other families here who don’t want to hear that sort of thing.”

Dad: “I f****** won’t! We’ll f****** stay here all night, s***heads, until you give us the apology we f****** deserve about the piss-poor service.”

Club Staff: “Both of you need to leave now, or we’re going to call the cops.”

Mum: “Fine, you f***ers, but don’t think we’ll be f****** back here again!”

Both of them proceeded to storm out — without the kid. They didn’t come back in, so the club staff took the baby to the police across the road.

What did I find when I went to clean the table was that they’d let their baby take a runny-a** dump in one of our bowls.

I work for a large company currently celebrating its fiftieth anniversary. We had a guest come in upset that she couldn’t find the restaurant.

Guest: “You all should really tell people where you’re located.”

Me: “We do, ma’am. There’s a map showing where we’re located, and it’s on the mobile site and signs throughout the park.”

Guest: “Well, I just asked some person out there, and they gave me the wrong directions.”

Me: “I’m sorry you experienced that. It seems your order is ready; I’ll go ahead and grab that for you.”

Guest: *Visibly upset* “You should really train your people to know to tell guests where you are so they can help other people.”

Me: *Internally facepalms* “Sorry again. Have a magical day!” 

Things like this are a daily occurrence.

I work at a Poke place. We do catering — like we make the food and they pick it up. We get a lot of orders for corporate events and meetings. The app we use for our catering orders lets every individual person who placed an order in the catering give us a review.

One day, we got this three-star rating and all it said was:

Review: “I didn’t realize the fish was going to be raw.”

I’m working at an outback-style restaurant. I am doing prep when I overhear a server saying this to one of the line cooks.

Server: “A customer just complained and returned their food because their cheeseburger had beef in it.”

They literally thought a cheeseburger had a cheese patty in it.