Make A Pesto Oneself
(I am a seventeen-year-old girl working at a pizzeria. A tourist who looks about forty approaches me, looking angry.)
Tourist: “How dare you sell this food in an Italian restaurant!”
Me: “Sir, I’m not entirely sure what you mean.”
Tourist: “This food! Don’t you know that pizza and ice cream are American? How dare you take credit for what we have done! This is ridiculous! I am going to sue you!”
Me: “Sir, that really isn’t necessary. I–”
Tourist: “Don’t you take that tone with me! Stop sounding all professional! It’s annoying!”
Me: “Sorry, sir, you-”
Tourist: “Shut up! This food is American! How dare you be so racist against Americans!
Me: “Sir, I am originally American, so why would I–”
Tourist: “This food is American!”
Me: “Sir, I–”
Tourist: “American!”
Me: “Ask anyone anywhere. Look it up on the Internet, even. I assure you that all this food is Italian.”
Tourist: “The customer is always right!” *storms off*
(I continue to serve customers. 25 minutes later he comes in again.)
Tourist: “Yeah, so I looked it up. Turns out it was Italian. Uh, so, can I have your number?”
This story is part of our Clueless Tourists roundup!
Question of the Week
Tell us your story about a customer who couldn't understand the most simple concept.
