You Say Potato, I Say Disgusting

, , , , , | Working | May 17, 2018

(I can’t eat gluten, which makes eating at restaurants a pain. I normally just make my own meals, but my mother-in-law wants to take me out to lunch, so I find a nearby restaurant with gluten-free options. We sit down, I ask for the gluten-free menu, and we both order. Our meals arrive, including dishes of baked apples. The service hasn’t been great, and my mother-in-law is already looking for a fight when I start to eat my baked apples and see something pale and mushy floating in the cinnamon sauce.)

Me: “Um… What is this?”

Mother-In-Law: “Let me see.” *fishes around in the bowl with a fork and grimaces* “That’s hash brown casserole. They must have reused the spoon. Does the casserole have gluten? Are you going to be okay?”

Me: “I’m not sure; I only checked things I was going to order—”

(My mother-in-law has already run off to get a manager. She returns with the manager and they’re arguing.)

Manager: *holds up the gluten-free menu and points* “It clearly states right here that we can’t take responsibility for allergies. It’s a shared kitchen, and we can’t guarantee anything. Your health is not our responsibility ,and if you can’t accept that, then you shouldn’t be eating out at all!”

(He is nearly shouting and my mother-in-law looks ready to explode. Finally, I manage to interrupt.)

Me: “What if I didn’t have an allergy?”

Manager: “What?”

Me: “What if I we’re just a regular customer who thought it was sort of disgusting that you’re using dirty spoons in the kitchen and leaving old potato in my dessert?”

Manager: “Oh… I… I’ll go talk to the kitchen.”

(He came out a few minutes later and said that he couldn’t comp my meal, but would remake my food free of charge. I politely declined. I have no interest in eating anything that comes out of that kitchen, ever again.)

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