Unfiltered Story #299030

(Small explanation of family, cause we’re weirdo Brits.
Mum: Her rage has what I call an acid voice – it’s very quiet, mostly softly spoken but with harsh sounds at the start and end of certain words. It can be difficult to pin point when something is going to push her from happy to rage -we’ve mostly learnt the line but most people don’t. But does also have a sense of humour at times.
MP: Mum’s Partner, generally chill. Usually very good at calming mum down.
OS: Oldest sister has issues with the sugar/make-up of fizzy drinks. She is only allowed ONE drink of it with food as otherwise she goes somewhat crazy.
MS: Middle sister. Can perfectly imitate accents and actions from seeing it once. Can be a bit of a little sh*t
Me: Cries when experiencing strong emotions. Easy to overwhelm. I suppose a drama queen but it’s the case that I actually believe it’s that bad and not purposely creating drama.
Rules with food. One glass of fizzy drink with your meal for all children, the switch to water. Always finish what’s on your plate – mum lived in Africa as a child so the idea of wasting when she saw kids her age literally starve causes her to get really angry and she’s essentially installed a feeling of guilt in us if we waste things.

We’re on a family holiday to Canada during which we visit Niagara Falls. We go to a restaurant for lunch. The waitress we get is a very perky New Yorker – she tells us where she’s from. We order starters, main course, dessert, mum and MP get coffees and us three get coca-cola. We’ve eaten out in Canada before, which mum found the portion size to be tolerable for us, so she doesn’t think much of ordering from the adult menu for us as we’re funny with what’s on the typical kids menu stuff. We get our drinks… and mum isn’t too happy with how large the glasses are)

Mum: “[OS], I’m sorry, but-”

OS: “Don’t finish the drink. I don’t think I could anyway”

(The waitress rocks up about a minute after we get our drinks with a pitcher for the fizzy and pot of coffee. She sees we’ve not had any of it, and she just smiles confused)

Waitress: “Everything okay?”

Mum: (confused) “Oh yes, we’re fine. Thank you”

(She disappears off, only to reappear again shortly after. This repeats a few times until mum and MP’s coffee is empty. Mum is planning on asking for a glass of water but before she can)

Waitress: (immediately refilling mum’s cup with coffee whilst looking at MP, still smiling and totally oblivious to mum’s wtf face) “Would you like some more coffee?”

MP: (bemused) “Sure”

Waitress: (filling his cup) “There you go. Your starters are just coming, sorry for the wait”

MP: “That’s fine”

(She disappears off)

Mum: “Why did you get asked but I didn’t?”

MP: “No idea”

MS: “you’re the mum of three girls. Probably thought-”

Mum: (warning tone) “Don’t you dare imitate her.”

MS: (cackles)

(The waitress comes back, just as perky, and puts down the starters. They’re huge. She asks if she can get anything else, which mum says no. It’s been about 5-10 minutes – not long enough for any of us to finish the starter, let alone the child, which was me, being slightly panicky over how much there is. And the waitress returns… with the main course. She’s still perky, but confused why we’ve not finished. We are also confused as to why she’s turned up with the main when we’ve not finished. She puts the plates down anyway)

Waitress: “Either I’m too fast or you’re too slow!”

Mum: “… We’re all… slow… eaters…”

(The waitress laughs and leaves)

Mum: (immediately hissing under her breath once she’s out of earshot) “You’re too FAST”

MS: (cackles again)

MP: (trying not to smile) “Now, dear, I’m sure she’s just used to people… inhaling their food and not British people… chatting whilst eating”

(we continue, I’m starting to get stressed as the main course looks huge and I’m struggling with the starter. Mum and MP has finished their second coffee. The waitress springs up, seemingly from nowhere, with the coffee pitcher)

Waitress: (immediately refilling mum’s cup with coffee whilst looking at MP, still smiling and, once again, totally oblivious to mum’s wtf face) “Would you like some more coffee?”

MP: “Actually, could I get a coke?”

Waitress: (slight falter) “Ah, what?”

MP: “Coke – like the girls? A coca-cola”

Waitress: “OH!” (smile back) “A soda! I gotcha!”

(She disappears off. She returns with a coca-cola for MP but also a pitcher of it. She starts topping up our glasses, which are over half full)

Mum and MP: (trying to stop it) “No!”

OS: “Ahh nono!”

MS: (imitating Star Wars) “Noooooooooooooo-”

Me: (beginning to panic over the idea that I’m going to have to finish more now)

Waitress: (confused, glancing a MS, then back between MP and mum and smiles brightly) “Oh, refills are free of charge!”

MS: (still going) “ooooooooo”

Mum: “[MS], stop that!”

MS: (stops)

MP: (kindly) “We’ll ask if we need any refills on the drinks, thank you”

Waitress: (still perky) “Alrighty then!”

(She disappears, only to return again to remove the starter plates and disappear again. I have realised that I cannot finish the main, feel guilty over the fact I can’t finish, become overwhelmed and burst into tears. After finding out it was because of the amount of food, and that all of us are struggling to finish, mum reassures me that I’m not some evil thing for not finishing and that she doesn’t expect us to eat or drink any more than what we can finish – over-eating doesn’t help anyone, after all. Mum finishes her coffee and the waitress reappears with coffee pot in hand, getting ready to immediate repour – mum moves her cup)

Mum: (extremely firmly) “No more, thank you!”

Waitress: (moment of quiet, then back to perky) “Oh, have I coffee’d you out?”

Mum: (like acid) “Yes.”

(There’s a really awkward pause as the waitress is frozen)

Waitress: “Erm…”

Mum: (acid anger voice) “If I am not mistaken, [MP] specifically told you that we would ASK if we wanted any more refills. Not that you asked if I – or the girls – wanted any refills before you started anyway. Which, frankly, I find rude as you asked [MP], just not us. Please cancel the dessert, we’re unable to finish our mains. If you’ve already made them then we shall pay for them, but we do not want them and you can do with them as you wish. We would not like a… doggy bag or whatever you call them here for our food for later. I would appreciate the bill, please and thankyou.”

(Waitress does, we pay, we leave, we’re in the car on the way back. MP has tried to calm mum down and mum has just gone ‘don’t’ so there’s this very awkward, strained silence)

MS: (imitating the waitress perfectly) “Either I’m too fast or you’re too slow!”

(There’s a very tense pause – me, OS and MP trying to stifle our laugh, knowing that this could very potentially lead to murder (not literally))

Mum: (voice cracking) “[MS]” (tries to get voice under control) “It’s rude to mock”

MS: “Would you like some more coffee?”

(more sniggers in the car)

Mum: (Seems to be trying to get the warning tone, but it’s much higher in pitch than normal and strained) “[MS]!”

MS: “Oh, have I coffee’d you out?”

(Mum bursts into laughter and the tension is completely gone. We all laugh, almost hysterically)

Mum: (once the laughter has lulled, with a sigh) “I don’t think I ever want to return there”

OS: “To be fair, I imagine the waitress doesn’t want us back either”

(There’s more laughter as we agree. 20 years later, MS still occasionally imitates the accent when making mum a cup of coffee and mum looks a mix of begrudgingly amused and wanting to strangle her)