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    Unbalanced Customer

    , | Baton Rouge, LA, USA | Extra Stupid, Family & Kids, Food & Drink

    (A lady comes up to my register with a child on her hip. The boy has to be at least two or three years old, plenty old enough to walk on his own. His mother orders several meals with bright red fruit punch, value sizing all of them.)

    Me: “Here are your drinks. The food will be out shortly. Shall I carry your tray for you?”

    Customer: “No, I’ve got it.”

    Me: “Are you sure? It’s kind of heavy and wobbly, especially with you holding your child in one arm. It’s not a problem at all.”

    Customer: “NO. I’VE. GOT. IT!”

    (I’m still not sure she can get it on her own, but there is nothing I can do at this point.)

    Me: “Okay. I’ll bring your food out when it’s ready.”

    (The customer walks off, and I wince as the tray wobbles unsteadily in her hand. I turn back to my work, but not a minute later there is a huge crash from the back of the dining room, near the entrance to the kiddie play area. My coworker and I rush over to see what is going on. With one hand still holding her son and the other balancing a tray of three 32 ounce drinks, the customer had attempted to open the door to the play area. The busted cups, along with all 96 ounces of fruit punch and ice, are splattered on the floor. Note that there is a large sign posted that bans food or drink from the play area.)

    Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. Your drinks are ruined. Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll get you some new ones?”

    Customer: “Okay. We’ll be in there.”

    (The customer attempts to step over the large mess and enter the play area.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ll have to ask you to sit at a table. If you want to watch your kids, we have several right here by the glass wall looking into the playground.”

    Customer: “But I want to eat in THERE.”

    Me: “I understand, ma’am, but we ask that you don’t bring food or drinks in the play area. There aren’t any tables in there anyway, just two small benches.”

    (The customer continues to get more and more irate.)

    Customer: “But I want to eat in there!”

    Me: *firmly* “Ma’am, please have a seat. Your food will be out in just a minute, and we will get you new drinks. I cannot allow you to break the rules. It’s too easy for the carpet and equipment to get ruined if you spill while in the play area. You’ve already caused a hazard by trying to go inside with two full hands.”

    (While we are speaking, I have to physically catch one little girl who tries to run out the door and slips on the drinks. I also have to stop several other children from nearly having the same accident.)

    Customer: “FINE!”

    (The customer sighed loudly and stalked over to a table. When my coworker came back, I got him to watch the door so I could get towels and a mop. I spent the next five minutes on my hands and knees, cleaning up a mess that temporarily stained both of my hands bright red. I also had to keep an eye out that no children came through quickly and hurt themselves or me. Then I had to spend longer drying it to completely eliminate any chance of injury by anyone. The customer spent the entire time giving me one of the dirtiest glares I have ever seen.)