Stressing Over The Dressing

, , , , | Right | March 25, 2019

(Two little old ladies walk up to the registers. I get the one in blue, and my coworker gets the one in pink. It’s the last half hour or so of what’s been a really long shift full of angry people stressed over vacations/school beginning/etc.)

Me: “Good afternoon! Will you be dining in with us today?”

Blue: “I’d like a salad.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Which salad would you like?”

Blue: “I’m not from here. I’m not familiar with your choices.”

Me: “Not a problem! We’ve got three salads—“ *I point at their slots on the menu board and name them* “—and we can add or take away ingredients if you need us to.”

Blue: *huffs angrily* “I just want a salad!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, but as I said, we’ve got three. Which one would you like?”

Blue: *absolutely steaming now* “Just a salad!” *finally stares at the board* “I’ll take the one in the picture.”

Me: “Absolutely. What sort of dressing would you like?”

Blue: *snarling* “Thousand. Island.”

Me: “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid we don’t have Thousand Island. The rest of our dressings are listed under—“


(I smile, but I know if I go any further with this lady I will say something I absolutely regret. I call my manager over and go stand next to one of my coworkers in the corner until the lady moves away.)

Manager: “What happened?”

Me: “I asked her what salad and dressing she wanted.”

Coworker: “Literally that’s all she did.”

Manager: “That’s what she said. She said you kept asking what salad and dressing she wanted.” *he looks at the clock* “You wanna go home ten minutes early?”

Me: “Nothing would bring me more pleasure.”

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