Mom Ain’t No Shrimping Violet

, , , | Right | November 18, 2019

(My mother is treating me to lunch at a popular seafood restaurant. They are offering an “Endless Shrimp” where you initially choose two types of shrimp from a list of varieties. After receiving those, you can continue ordering additional shrimp plates of any variety until you’re finished. It’s a fixed price no matter how many plates of shrimp you get. We both order the Endless Shrimp and are several plates into it when I find a light brown hair in my shrimp. My hair is long and dark brown, with lighter highlights. Also, I am used to strands falling out here or there throughout the day, so I think it could probably be my hair in the shrimp. I’m not certain, though. I have some social anxiety and hate confrontation, so I set my shrimp aside, planning to simply order another plate. Unfortunately, this isn’t good enough for my mother.)

Mom: “What’s up? What happened?”

Me: *knowing how she would react if she found out* “It’s nothing; I’ll just order another plate.”

Mom: *grabs my shrimp, picks up the hair* “There’s a hair in your shrimp!”

Me: “It’s probably mine. I’m just going to order another plate.”

Mom: *yelling* “NO. This hair is blond. Your hair isn’t blond. This is ridiculous!”

(By now, the waitress has come over to see what the commotion is about.)

Mom: *loudly* “She found a hair in her shrimp.”

Waitress: “I’m sorry—”

Mom: “This is unacceptable!

Me: *quietly, wanting to die* “It’s no big deal; it’s probably mine, anyway. I’d just like a plate of [different variety], please.”

Mom:No! This is blond. My daughter’s hair is not blond!

Waitress: “I’m very sorry, and we can certainly get you that other plate and a discount for the trouble. Our shrimp comes prepackaged from a different company, and the hair probably got in there during their processing. I will definitely talk to the people who order our food so they can let our supplier know.”

Me: “Thank you very m—”

Mom: “I want to see the manager!”

Me: “That’s not necessary—”

Mom: “Manager, now.”

(The manager came over and my mom loudly complained to him about the hair. He ended up comping the full cost of my meal plus half of hers and giving us free dessert! I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t eat more than a small nibble of the dessert. My mom paid and smugly dragged me out of the restaurant. I pretended to need the restroom so I could sneak back and leave the waitress a bigger tip. I hope she had better customers after us!)


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