I Wouldn’t Eat That Second Plate If I Were You

My wife, her daughter, her daughter’s husband, and I are eating at a restaurant during the evening meal. We are sitting in a booth just off the bar area.

The waitress brings our meals. My wife takes a bite of her pasta meal and pulls out a plastic strip that frozen food packages come with to pull and open to empty the contents.

She calls our waitress to show her. The waitress takes the plate back to the kitchen to have it remade.

In the meantime, just around the corner, I hear the waitress complaining to the manager about my wife’s food.

Waitress: “The cook has been hitting on me all week and asking me out. I told him to leave me alone, so he said he was going to ‘fix’ all my meals and that I would regret turning him down.”

The manager brought out a new plate for my wife and never mentioned anything about comping it.

The next thing I heard was the sound of tables and chairs being knocked over in the bar area. I looked back around the corner from our booth and saw the manager and the cook in question in a fight — right there in the restaurant.

We found out that the manager was attempting to escort the cook out of the building after firing him and the cook thought otherwise — at least for a few minutes.