It’s All Greek To Me(an)

(I am on a conducted tour to Greece with some older men and women. When we stop at a restaurant, being rather old-fashioned Swedes, the older people on the tour want to be served meatballs and mashed potatoes. The restaurant complies. A young waiter serves them their food and speaks to them with a huge smile on his face.)

Waiter: *in Greek* “So, meatballs and mash just like in Sweden, huh? Should I chew the food for you as well, you babies? F***** simpletons, the lot of you.”

(He continues to make rude and derogatory comments to them the whole time, but since he is smiling, has a polite tone and the old people don’t speak Greek, they just think he is a charming young man. Unbeknownst to him, however, I happen to know Greek, so when the waiter comes to me…)

Me: *stands up and says in Greek* DON’T YOU SAY ANOTHER F****** WORD, OR I’LL BEND YOU OVER THE TABLE RIGHT HERE AND NOW, YOU PUNK!”

(The color drained from the waiter’s face and the owner, who stood nearby, almost died of laughter.)