Daddy Isn’t Welcome Here

, , , , , | Romantic | December 14, 2017

(I’m taking orders at the front end of the food stand, while the owner works the grill next to me, and my coworker — a burly middle-aged man — does prep at the back of the tent. I’m a female in my mid-20s, I have a lot of health issues, and my coworkers are a little protective of me.)

Customer: “I’d like one chocolate and one vanilla custard.”

Me: “Great, that’ll be $5. There’s about a three-minute wait. Can I get a name for the order?”

Customer: *winks lecherously* “Call me ‘Daddy.’ It’s pretty loud out here; you might have to scream it.”

Me: “Next customer, please!”

(I keep serving, but I’m thoroughly creeped out. After a few minutes, the guy’s order comes up, and the owner notices me turning pale when he hands the food to me. After a quick explanation, he tells me to go take a break at the back. He then calls up my coworker and they talk briefly.)

Coworker: *bellowing* “Hey, Daddy!”

(The customer walks up, looking nervous.)

Coworker: “Here’s your $5. We are refusing you service.”

Customer: “What? No! I want my food! Make her serve me my food!”

Coworker: “Sir, my daughter is not going to serve you food. My son, on the grill, is not going to make you food. Take your money and get out, a**hole.”

Customer: “F***!” *storms off*

(He left his $5 behind. I got his food AND the money.)

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