Mama Mushroom, Her Name Is Karen

, , , , , | Right | June 5, 2020

I work at a Mexican restaurant. A family of four comes in and I take their orders. 

Customer: “I would like this—”

The customer points to a menu item.

Customer: “—but I don’t want mushrooms. I am very allergic to mushrooms, so please make sure the cooks know.”

Me: “All righty, ma’am. No problem.”

I take her daughter’s order, but as the daughter is ordering, her mom cuts in.

Customer: “Make sure my daughter’s food doesn’t have mushrooms, either. We don’t know if she is allergic like me, but we don’t want to take the chance.”

Me: “Okay, not a problem!”

The dad and son order, and I proceed to put their order into the computer. I make sure to let the cooks know that they do not want any mushrooms. After the food is done, I carry it out to my table.

Me: “Does everything look okay? Can I get you all anything else right now?” 

Customer: “What is this?”

Me: “The chicken you ordered. Is there a problem?”

Customer: “These are mushrooms! I can’t eat this! I am deathly allergic to mushrooms!”

I’m just thinking to myself, “If you are THAT deathly allergic to mushrooms, why would you order one of the only things on the menu that has mushrooms?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, and I apologize. I will have them make you a new plate as soon as possible!”

I turn to her daughter.

Me: “Are there mushrooms on your plate?”

Daughter: “No, I don’t think so.”

Mom: “Well, it looks like there are mushrooms on hers!”

Me: “ I can have the cooks make a new plate for her, too, if you want.”

Daughter: “No, it’s fine.”

Me: “Okay. Well, ma’am, I will have your new plate out shortly.”

Customer: “Okay, thanks.”

I know that the plate doesn’t have any mushrooms on it, but “the customer is always right,” so I have the cooks make her a new plate. I bring out the new plate and set it down.

Me: “Here you are, ma’am. Enjoy!”

Customer: “Wait.” *Poking her food* “What is this? This looks like a mushroom! I am allergic to mushrooms! Don’t you get it?! I could die!”

Their son, age four, is jumping up and down in the booth.

Customer’s Son: “MOMMY’S GONNA DIE! MOMMY’S GONNA DIE!”

Customer: “SHUT UP! IT’S NOT FUNNY! I COULD DIE!”

The customer proceeds to pick up the “mushroom” with her fork and shoves it in my face.

Customer: “Does this look like a mushroom to you?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but that is an onion. It’s just a burnt onion. From the grill. I made sure that there were no mushrooms on this plate.”

Customer: “So, you’re telling me that this isn’t a mushroom?!”

She continues to push the fork closer to my face.

Customer: “Are you telling me that I’m wrong?!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can assure you that it is not a mushroom. It’s a burnt onion.”

Customer: “Let me speak with your manager.”

I go and get my manager, and my manager goes over to my table. The customer tells my manager that I put mushrooms in her food knowing that she was allergic, and then proceeds to stick the fork in my manager’s face!

Manager: “Ma’am, I am sorry. We will make you a new plate. Everything will be cooked in separate pans, and we will make it to-go!”

The customer was very upset with me and left me no tip.

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