Calculated To The Last Decimal Of Pie

(During a Saturday full of errands, the roommate and I decide to treat ourselves to lunch out. The waitress gets our drinks right, but the food is where the fun begins…)

Me: “The taco salad looks good, but it comes in that big fried tortilla bowl. No bueno.”

Roommate: “They have the [menu item]. Same stuff as the taco salad, but no bowl, and it’s even a dollar cheaper.”

Me: “Perfect!”

(When the waitress arrives, I order the [menu item] by name, even pointing it out on the page to be sure I’m talking about the right thing. My roommate orders a sandwich, with no mayo, which she doesn’t care for. A few minutes later, when the food arrives…)

Me: “Well, hello there, giant tortilla bowl. I could’ve sworn…”

Roommate: “And there’s mayo on my sandwich.”

(We flag down the waitress.)

Me: “Excuse me, but I ordered—”

Waitress: “That’s what you ordered, hon.” *walks away*

Roommate: “Okay, then. Not even going to bring mine up.”

(The salad is good, most of the mayo wipes off the sandwich, and we think all is well. Until, foolish people that we are, we decide to have dessert…)

Me: *to waitress, pointing at the tabletop ad for the pie-of-the-month special* “This strawberry pie looks good. Can I have a slice, please? And that’s going to be everything, so if you can bring the check, too, that’s great.”

(My pie and the check come together, and I am just enjoying my first bite when…)

Roommate: “They charged us for the wrong pie.”

Me: “Seriously?!”

Roommate: “Yep. Look right there. Strawberry cream pie.”

Me: “Which this definitely isn’t. At least we were only charged for the salad I ordered, not the one I got?”

(After finishing the pie, we go to the register to pay.)

Me: “Hi, there was actually a mistake on my bill. I ordered the strawberry pie, but I’m being charged for the strawberry cream pie. Can I get that adjusted, please?”

Cashier: “Ugh, really? It’s only 70 cents difference, you know.”

Me: *holding very firmly onto my temper* “I would like it adjusted, please.”

Cashier: “Fine. I’ll need a manager for that. Wait just a moment.”

(The manager arrives, and while keying in his override…)

Manager: “It’s only 70 cents difference, you know.”

(I have had enough.)

Me: “Yes, I’m well aware of that. However, it’s 70 cents difference on an item I didn’t want, didn’t order, and didn’t get. Your waitress also got both our entrees wrong, which was more than a little frustrating. Please just fix the check so that it reflects what I should be paying for what I got.”

Manager: *muttering* “All this fuss over 70 cents…”

(I was incredibly tempted to go back to our table and tip the waitress exactly 70 cents.)