It’s Safest To Save Talking Smack For Home

I am serving tables as a seventeen-year-old student in a quite nice restaurant in Belgium. I am a white male with blonde hair and blue eyes. On a rather calm evening, a man, wife, and son sit down at a table. Passing by, I notice that they are Latino because of the Spanish accent they speak with and the Chilean flag tattooed on the man’s arm.

Because my family is quite linguistic and kind of multicultural, I am near-fluent in Spanish, as well as a couple of other languages. While I’m serving the table in my native language, the man starts a video call with family in Chile. At one point, the d*****bag tells this family member, in Spanish:

Man: “I’ll get this idiotic-looking waiter. He’s sucked at everything he has been doing all night.”

I get that I sometimes make mistakes, but I’ve done nothing of the kind this evening.

The man evidently thought I wouldn’t understand him speaking in Spanish. So, when I bring him and his family dessert, I say:

Me: “Buen provecho, disfrúten su postre.” Bon appetit, enjoy your dessert.

Then, I smiled sarcastically and left. The s***bag didn’t know what came over him. He hung up pretty quickly after that. His wife didn’t seem to happy with the situation and made it pretty clear to her husband. The son just seemed confused. They didn’t leave a tip.