My Mother Brings Home The Bacon

(My family owns a restaurant in our town. One night, a family — mother, father, and daughter — come in to have dinner. Due to an accidental glitch while putting in the order, we give mac and cheese with bacon to the vegetarian daughter. She proceeds to eat the entire bowl. Then, the daughter beckons over their server.)

Daughter: “Uh, excuse me. Did you put meat in my dinner?”

(The server looks confused, but then nods.)

Server: “Yes, you ordered the mac and cheese with bacon.”

Daughter: “No, I’m a vegetarian! I specifically asked for no bacon!”

(She stands up from her seat and starts yelling at the server. My mother sees this and walks over.)

My Mother: “Excuse me, may I ask what happened?”

Daughter: “They put bacon in my mac and cheese! I’m a vegetarian. My body isn’t used to meat; you could’ve killed me!”

(She keeps on screaming at both my mother and my server about how they tried to kill her, her parents doing nothing about their daughter. Eventually, my mother speaks again.)

My Mother: “I’m sorry, we usually double-check our receipts when people have a food preference, although not as much as if they had a food allergy. I apologize, this is the first time this has happened and—“

Daughter: “I don’t care! You tried to kill me with meat! I’m a vegetarian and the customer, so you should be taking special care to my needs!”

(Eventually, my mother gets fed up with the daughter’s screaming, as she is disrupting other customers and servers alike.)

My Mother: “Excuse me, but we do not tolerate this behavior in the restaurant, so I must ask you to leave.”

(She storms out, with her parents in tow, without so much as an apology. The next day, the father returns, and my mother goes over to speak to him.)

Father: “Oh, you. Your apology wasn’t sincere last night, and you didn’t even care that my daughter almost died. I don’t even want to talk to you; let me talk to the owner.”

My Mother: “Well, it’s your lucky day. You’re already talking to her.”

Father: “You’re the owner? Like, you own this restaurant?”

My Mother: “Yes, I believe that’s what being the owner means. I do apologize for the error last night, and we’d be glad to give you and your wife a free dinner, but your daughter is no longer allowed in my restaurant. Have a nice day.”

(The father merely stared at her for a moment, and then walked straight back out of the door. You go, Mom!)