(An older woman, older man, teenage girl, and a middle-aged woman are sitting at a table I serve and seem dissatisfied with something as they eat.)
Me: “Is there something wrong with your meals?”
Teenage Girl: “Ah… no. Thank you.”
(She’s picking the bacon off of her sandwich and putting it to side of her plate.)
Middle-Aged Woman: “Actually, her bacon just seems a little raw, so could ya’ll just give her some better cooked pieces?”
Teenage Girl: “Mom it’s just smoked. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
(It’s clear she’s trying not to cause a fuss.)
Older Woman: “[Teenage Girl], baby, it’s not smoked. That’s clearly raw!”
(Older Woman snatches the bacon off of the plate and examines it with her fork and fingers.)
Me: “At [Restaurant] we smoke our bacon, so I assure you it isn’t raw.”
Older Man: “Naw, look at it. It’s raw.”
Older Woman: “Would you eat that? That’s NASTY! Are ya’ll trying to kill my niece?”
(Older Woman picks up the bacon and puts it in my palms.)
Older Man: “That’s RAW! If it’s not, then eat it!”
Me: “Sir, ma’am, I promise you that isn’t raw.”
Older Woman: “I DEMAND to see your manager. You can’t just feed people raw meat!”
Teenage Girl: “Seriously it’s fine.”
Older Man: “Baby, it’s not fine. We’re gonna getcha cooked meat and yell at them people for trying to give you Ebola.”
(I think she confused Ebola for E. Coli)
Teenage Girl: “I’m not going to get Ebola…”
Me: “Well, since you now know that the bacon is not raw I’ll let you continue your meal.”
(I put the bacon that was semi-chewed in a napkin and tossed it in the trash. I quit that day.)
