This takes place around 1980 or thereabouts.

In my last two years of university, I was also a part-time staff member at one of the campus cafeteria locations. By the time of this story, I had worked my way up to become one of the “Assistant Managers” at this particular location. It was a pizza- and sub-themed cafeteria that normally did not open until around 4:00 pm, so the two full-time day staff were primarily there to do prep work for opening. One, [Coworker], was a gruff little Italian lady who could be nice, but if you did something wrong, you had to watch out as she could be rather testy with you from that point on.

When I worked a closing shift, which normally wrapped up around 2:00 am, I was responsible for locking up, including the door from the loading dock. It could only be locked and unlocked from the outside, so when I left, I had to exit to the dock and then lock the door. The normal procedure was to return the key sometime in the morning after the day staff were in.

The morning after one such shift, I was just starting to wake up when my phone rang.

Me: “Hello?”

Coworker: “Hello, [My Name]. I was just calling to let you know… you forgot to lock the door last night. It was unlocked when I came in at 7:45.”

Me: “Unlocked? No… I’m pretty sure I locked it up as usual.”

Coworker: “Well, I was the first one in, and it was definitely unlocked. I know you think you did, but it wasn’t—”

Me: *Interrupting* “No, I am sure I did….”

Coworker: *Interrupting, and in that condescending tone we all know* “I’m sure you think you did, but it was not locked. That’s okay; we don’t need to tell anyone. We keep this between you and me, okay?”

Based on other student staff experiences with this particular lady, I recognized that as the “I’m going to hold that over your head and watch you like a hawk, and you’d better not screw up again or else” message.

I ended the phone call because I had to get up and get ready to head out for my first class of the day. I planned to go past the cafeteria to drop the key off after that and argue my case with her then.

A couple of hours later, I arrived in the kitchen and stepped into the office to return the key. When I came back out, [Coworker] was there waiting for me.

Me: “Morning, [Coworker]. I had my doubts when you called me early this morning, but I can assure you that I did lock up properly last night…”

Coworker: *Rather quietly* “Yes, you did. I know.”

Me: “Wait, what? If you knew, why did you call me—”

Coworker: “After I called you, I had to call [Other Kitchen] to find out where our baked goods were. They hadn’t been delivered yet. Just as I was doing that, [Driver] came in with them, apologizing. He came by just before I came in, unlocked the door, and then went into the truck to get the baking and realized he’d forgotten ours. He finished his rounds, went back to get it, and came by later than usual. After I talked to him, he realized he’d forgotten to lock the door before getting back in the truck.”

Me: “I see.”

Coworker: “So, it wasn’t you after all.”

With that, she turned and went back to work. There was no apology or recognition of her unfounded accusation. The best I can say is she was always pleasant to me on the occasions our paths crossed after that.

It’s the lunch rush at the cafeteria within the local grocery store. Being a small, senior town with only one grocery store, it gets quite busy during mealtimes. What can I say? Old people love a $5 soup and sandwich deal!

I’m nineteen and working the cash register near the area where the condiments, napkins, cutlery, etc., are. I’ve just rung through [Customer #1] and passed him his soup and sandwich. I move on to [Customer #2], and then [Customer #1] stomps up, interrupting.

Customer #1: “THERE ARE NO SOUP SPOONS!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sure more spoons will be out momentarily; I know the dishwashers just put a load of cutlery in.”

Customer #1: “Not acceptable! My soup is getting cold!”

I look over his shoulder and see the soup at his table, still steaming.

Me: “I assure you that we keep our soup as hot as possible, so it’ll stay hot for a bit. However, if you can’t wait, I see plenty of smaller coffee spoons available.”

He is outraged; I may as well have insulted his mother.

Customer #1: “I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. EAT. WITH. A. SMALL. SPOON. BRING ME A SOUP SPOON!”

Me: “As I said, they are being washed, and I’m sure by now they’ll be out any second.” *Turning back to [Customer #2]* “So sorry for the interruption. You had the BLT, correct?”

Customer #1: *Interrupting [Customer #2] again* “I’m not leaving until you personally hand me a soup spoon.”

Customer #2: *Fed up* “Well, where do you expect her to get it from, her a**?!”

Just that moment, the dishwasher brought out a tray of sparkling clean cutlery, including a heap of soup spoons. [Customer #1] looked between me, [Customer #2], and the spoons. I could tell he wanted to be angry, but perhaps by some miracle he realized he was being unreasonable, and he sulked away.

I gave [Customer #2] my staff discount on her meal.

I benefited from an entitled customer at a cafeteria-style restaurant. I reached the entree section where two employees were working.

Me: “May I have a grilled chicken breast?”

Employee #1: “The only chicken we have left is a half chicken.”

I started viewing the other meat selections when the customer behind me ordered.

Customer: “I’d like a grilled chicken breast.”

Employee #1: “We only have half chickens available.”

Customer: “Then cut one in half.”

Employee #1: “No, we’re selling them as-is.”

Customer: “Another employee the other day allowed the chicken pieces to be cut.”

Employee #2: “Yes, I allowed them to have the white meat cut from the half chicken.”

When [Employee #1] found out, not only did the customer behind me get what he wanted, but [Employee #1] said I may as well also. The third customer in line joined in and asked for just the white meat.

When [Employee #2] saw there were now three chopped-up pieces of meat, she realized what she had done by allowing the adjustment.

So, while I did benefit and got just the part I wanted, I hope it showed [Employee #2] that this is why you don’t give in to demands.

When I am fourteen, I go on a school trip to Normandy to visit the D-Day beaches and various graveyards. For the duration, we stay at a very nice hotel that has a large enough cafeteria to house about forty students and ten teachers.

This incident occurs when we are eating dinner one night. We get a piece of baguette with each meal. I pick up my piece of baguette, but then I stop and put it back down.

Classmate #1: “[My Name], you’re not going to eat your bread?”

Classmate #2: “Yeah, you always eat that first.”

I pick the baguette back up and point at what’s wrong. The piece that I was given has a wasp baked INTO the bread.

Classmate #1: “Oh, dear.”

Classmate #2: “I’ll get a teacher.”

They start waving at the teachers’ table.

Me: “Oh, please don’t. I don’t want to make a fuss.”

Due to being at a low point in my life, I try to avoid confrontations or drawing attention to myself, but one of the language teachers notices my classmate waving and comes over to our table.

Teacher: “What’s wrong?”

Classmate #1: “[My Name]’s bread has a wasp baked into it.” *Passes it to her*

The teacher — who I don’t know, mind you — stares at the bread for a moment before getting a very angry look on her face and striding straight for the kitchen.

Me: “Was— Was that the best idea?”

Classmate #2: “Trust me.”

From the kitchen suddenly bursts a cacophony of angry shouting, none of which we can understand due to it being all in French, but we can definitely tell it’s coming from [Teacher].

A few minutes later, the teacher comes out with a new piece of baguette for me

Me: “Thank— Thank you.”

Teacher: “It has been dealt with.”

She walks off and sits back at the teachers’ table.

Later on, when the big trays of desserts come out, which are normally just big pans of sheet cake, I am given a big slice of fancy chocolate cake by an embarrassed-looking employee before they scurry off. I notice that the teacher has a slice, as well.

Me: “As much as I appreciate the gesture, I can’t eat all of this. Any of you want to share?”

So, alongside the regular sheet cake, I shared the chocolate cake with the five other girls at my table, and for the rest of the time we spent at the hotel, none of the employees would look at me and would always look slightly fearful of the teacher that came to my rescue.

I work in a small cafeteria at a local tourist attraction. I have a tourist family from India come in and buy cheeseburgers. They sit down at their table and unwrap their food, and they all look horrified!

One of them gets up, brings his burger to me, and exclaims:

Customer: “This burger has meat on it!”

Me: “Yes, it’s a cheeseburger.”

Customer: “A cheeseburger should be cheese and bread!

Seeing as how they revered cows and were vegetarians, their ground beef patties were horrifying beyond belief for them. We gave them a refund and apologized for not having more clear signs on the display case.

Seriously, though, who comes to America and thinks, “Oh, look, BURGERS! I bet those don’t have any meat!”?

Related:
Don’t Have A Cow, Man, Part 4
Don’t Have A Cow, Man, Part 3
Don’t Have A Cow, Man, Part 2
Don’t Have A Cow, Man