(I am working an overnight shift at a very popular 24/7 mainly breakfast diner in Georgia. Our specialty is in the name of the restaurant. It is around 2:00 am and it is dead. We have one table that has already paid and is just hanging out, which we don’t mind when it’s dead. I’m just about to go outside for a smoke break when the phone rings.)

Me: *to coworker* “I got it! Thank you for calling [Diner]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Uh, yeah. Do y’all sell coffee?”

Me: “Yes, we sure do. We have decaf, regular, and dark roast.”

Customer: “Do y’all sell eggs?”

Me: “Yes… we do. You can order them to be made any way you like, or add them to any sandwich for extra.”

Customer: “Do y’all sell waffles?”

(I’m slightly annoyed at this point. More people have come in. This person doesn’t seem like they are going to order anything and it’s obvious that we sell waffles because it’s in the name of the diner.)

Me: “Yes, we do. You can get chocolate, peanut butter, or pecan.”

Customer: *giggling* “Wow. You really sell waffles?”

Me: *finally losing my patience* “Yes, that’s why it’s called [Diner].”

Customer: “Rude!” *click*

(They called two more times that night. My coworkers (server and grill operator) took turns answering. After they hassled the other server, they called back. The grill operator ended up telling them that if they didn’t want to order anything, they needed to f*** off and stop calling.)

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(I’m interviewing for a position as a dishwasher in a local diner, and the manager seems nice.)

Manager: “Would you like to be a cook?”

Me: “Um, no. I don’t know how to cook.”

Manager: “Who doesn’t know how to cook?”

Me: “Me.”

(He kept insisting that I be a cook, even though I told him I would rather wash dishes. He seemed very disappointed and never called me back. I found another job elsewhere. I don’t know why they would advertise for a dishwasher and need a cook. Very weird.)

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(My mom and I go to a diner around the corner from our hotel, and get seated right away.)

Waitress: “Hi, folks. What would you like to drink?”

Mom: “Hot tea.”

Me: “Coffee, please.”

(Ten minutes later:)

Waitress: “Here’s your hot tea. And what was your drink?”

Me: “Coffee.”

Waitress: “Okay, let me drop off this other order and I’ll be back with your… Coffee…?”

Me: *mentally facepalms very hard*

(I work in a diner down the street from a church. After services, a lot of members will come and eat at our diner. Some of them are really nice people, but some of them are the kind of people that will leave pamphlets instead of tips, which is the bane of any server’s existence. It’s a Sunday afternoon after church has let out.)

Gentleman: “Ma’am, I left something for you under my plate. Please make sure you read it.”

Me: “Oh… thanks.”

(Understandably, I assume this is a pamphlet until I get there and realize, to my confusion, that it’s a card that says, “Thinking of you,” on the front. Inside there’s a handwritten note.)

Gentleman’s Note: “I’m a pastor at the church down the street, and it’s to my understanding that some of my congregation think it’s appropriate to leave pamphlets in lieu of real tips. I plan on addressing this during next week’s service. In the meantime, I hope this helps make up for today.”

(There were three $20 bills inside the card, more than three times what his food was worth. It was the best surprise I’d ever received since I started working there, and even better, some of his congregation seemed to take his words to heart, because I noticed that, the next week at least, there were fewer pamphlets and more actual tips.)

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23 Times Waitstaff Had To Deal With Customers From Hell

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(This story takes place in a diner late at night. I have just gotten off work and meet my parents and brother for a later dinner. We get seated and can already tell this is gonna be a rough meal: the waitress takes 10 minutes to come ask for our drink order, and another 20 before asking for our entree order. My mother orders a senior omelette, due to a food allergy in the regular omelette, and fruit, and I order a regular hamburger. This occurs once the waitress brings over our food.)

Mom: “I can’t eat this. This is the regular omelette.”

Waitress: “Oh, well, it’s bigger than the senior omelette, so really, you’re getting a deal here.”

Mom: “No, I specifically ordered the senior omelette due to my mushroom allergy. This will kill me if I eat it.”

Waitress: “Well, I guess I’ll take it back, then, but it will take a little bit of time to whip up a new one.”

(The waitress takes away my mom’s food, and she begins to eat my dad’s fruit to hold her. I go to take a bite of my hamburger, and realize it’s drenched in some type of barbecue sauce. Not wanting to make a huge issue, I eat a few bites, but can’t stand any more than that. 30 minutes later my mom’s food comes out; the manager bringing it out this time.)

Manager: “We’re really sorry about the mix up; we upgraded the omelette so that you got the size of the regular omelette, with the ingredients of the senior.”

Mom:“Well, thank you for that, but I ordered fruit, not hash browns, due to a diet restriction. But no point in waiting another hour to get fruit. My daughter will just eat them.”

Manager: *laughing slightly uncomfortably, she turns to me* “Well, I hope you’re hungry!”

Me: “I am. This hamburger was disgusting, and not what I ordered, I just didn’t want to sit here for another hour waiting for you to cook it, since we’ve been here almost two hours and my mom just got her meal. This was horrible service, and I would suggest you review your wait staff on proper customer service.”

(The manager assures me she will take care note of my suggestions, and leaves. We go up to pay.)

Waitress: “Your total is [total].”

Me: “No.”

Waitress: “What do you mean, sweetie?”

Me: “You expect my parents to pay full price for a horrible meal that took almost three hours to complete? Absolutely not!”

(My mother quickly ushers me out while my dad begins to pay. When he gets in the car, he turns to my mother.)

Dad: “We should take her out to dinner more often.”

Mom: “Why’s that?”

Dad: “She just got our waitress to give us our meal for free.”

Related:
There Is Mushroom For Improvement, Part 2
There Is Mushroom For Improvement