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  • Wake Up And Smell The Snooty

    | New York, NY, USA | Food & Drink, Top

    (I wait tables in a very upscale restaurant in Manhattan. Most of our clientele makes more money in one year than I’ll ever see in my lifetime. This sometimes leads to customers forgetting that the world does not revolve around them. This particular Saturday night, I have a rather rude couple whom I cannot seem to please, and to top it off, I am not exactly feeling well. I have epilepsy, and as we are extremely busy, my boss has me on a light work load for the night and wants me to take it easy.)

    Customer: *shouting across the restaurant* “Waiter! Waiter! My wife and I are ready to order and we were sat five minutes ago already!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we’re a little busy tonight. What can I get for you two this evening?”

    Customer: “Just get us each a glass of your house wine. We’re not ready to order our entrees yet.”

    (As the next half-hour progresses, I feel worse and worse until I start to see auras. They’re usually my only warning that I’m about to have a seizure within the next 30 seconds. This happens as I’m carrying out the tray of food for the lovely couple. The last thing I remember is slamming the tray down on the nearest table. The next thing I am aware of is some angry shouting.)

    Customer: “I pay good money for my food and this little s*** drops it all over the place! I demand at least some compensation! He knows I have money. He just did it to garner sympathy for an extra tip!”

    Boss: “Sir, with all due respect, he has epilepsy and the paramedics are on their way. Anyway, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t fake a seizure, urinate himself, and slice his face open on broken glass on purpose, all for an extra $20. I’m sorry that you’re upset, but we have to take care of the situation at hand first and then we can solve whatever problems remain.”

    Customer: “This is ridiculous! He has ruined my experience and traumatized my wife!”

    (Paramedics arrive, check me over, lift me onto a gurney. Meanwhile, I am absolutely mortified, confused, and crying.)

    Customer, to me: “You! I’ll remember your face! You’re a disgusting little money-grubbing runt, trying to garner sympathy from the poor customers in this restaurant! I’m never coming back here after this stunt you pulled. Unforgivable! ”

    (He then storms out of the restaurant, dragging his wife behind him, whilst shouting out numerous colorful expletives.)

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