Forty-Minute Wait And Forty Seconds To Fury

I am a hostess at a fairly popular restaurant close to a movie theater. This can attract some large families on busy nights, so we strongly suggest reservations in our advertising.

It’s a Friday evening, and we’re already on a wait. This family of seven saunters in.

Father: “Can we get a table?”

Me: “We do have about a forty-minute wait, but if you’d like to wait on the patio and order an appetizer, there is space for you.”

He frowns, whispers to his wife, and then turns back to me.

Father: “Nah, we’re going somewhere else. Go f*** yourself.”

I almost didn’t believe I had heard it at first. Seriously? I was blown away that this father, husband, adult f****** man felt like it was okay to say that to a twenty-year-old hostess. What?!