Customer: “I want the spicy salmon, but I don’t want any spices.”

Me: “Of course. It’s still made with salt and pepper with—”

Customer: “No… No salt or pepper. And no oil, and no butter! I’m on a diet.”

Me: “Well, that doesn’t leave much to flavor it with. Are you okay with it just tasting like seared salmon and nothing else?”

Customer: “Eww, no! I expect you to make it taste nice!”

Me: “How, ma’am? You’ve said no to most of our seasoning and flavoring.”

Customer: “Just… make it taste nice!”

She spent $25 on a few pieces of seared plain salmon. When I checked in on them, she had taken one bite and left the rest. I guess it didn’t taste nice.

Our new manager is from the UK (the brother-in-law of the owner), and he’s the chillest and most straight-to-the-point individual I have ever met. He seems to have brought his management style over from “across the pond” because where previous managers would bend over backward to appease every whiny customer, this one just… gets it.

A customer has called over the manager because she ordered an expensive truffle pasta dish that actually contains truffle shavings, but then, she decided she didn’t like the truffle flavor. She is complaining that it hasn’t been taken off the bill.

Manager: “You’re being charged for an item that you ordered that contained ingredients that were both listed on the menu and explained to you when you ordered.”

Customer: “But I didn’t like it.”

Manager: “I’m sorry about that. Would you like to order something else?”

Customer: “No.”

Manager: “Okay, is there anything else I can do for you?”

Customer: “I don’t want to pay for this.”

Manager: “I’m sorry that you feel that way.”

My manager walks away to deal with something else but is summoned back to the customer two minutes later.

Customer: “Why is this still on my bill?”

Manager: “Haven’t we been over this?”

I’m sure he is being deliberately obtuse, and maybe some could view his stance as a little antagonistic, but after years of having a manager kowtowing to every customer for every trivial thing, I’m not going to deny the satisfaction we all get from getting a manager who does the exact opposite.

When the owner complains to the manager that this attitude means these customers won’t come back, his only response is:

Manager: “You’re welcome.”

One time when I was in college, my roommates were ordering Chinese food. At the time, I was pretty convinced that I didn’t like Chinese food because I had had it twice and it was very subpar and bland. (It ended up being that I had just had bad places.)

I had a Thai aunt who made delicious dishes at family gatherings, but I didn’t know what any of them were. I knew my favorite was a very spicy chicken. (She used to joke that she was trying to make it so spicy to kill my stepdad because he always said it was never spicy enough.)

So, when I was asked what I wanted, I asked them:

Me: “Can they make chicken that will burn my face off?”

The restaurant complied, and it was delicious. And it led to me trying Chinese food at various places and finding out that I did, in fact, like Chinese food from good Chinese places, and it did not have to burn my face off.

I have an uncle who used to work as a server in a kosher restaurant in the Jewish Ghetto, and he has told me this tale many times.

It’s important to know that, among kosher rules, there’s the prohibition of cooking dairy together with meat. And, while most places in the ghetto usually simply do not offer grated cheese and have separate cheese boards to save themselves the hassle, this restaurant my relative worked at, by virtue of being owned by a hardcore Italki couple, outright does not allow anything dairy on the menu, not even desserts.

Not that this stops people.

A party of three tourists gets a table and orders pasta. When it’s served, one of them pipes up:

Tourist #1: *In English* “This pasta looks a little… bare. Can I please have cheese?”

Uncle: “Sorry, sir, but as we are a meat-oriented kosher restaurant, we don’t have cheese. However, if you would like some more sauce, I can add some for you no problem.”

Tourist #1: “Meat-oriented kosher restaurant? Doesn’t that just mean you can’t eat pigs and have to slaughter other animals ritually? Why no cheese?”

Tourist #2: *To [Tourist #1], in German* “I mean, maybe they’re catering to the dairy-free crowd?”

Uncle: “Actually, no, it’s not kosher to have meat and cheese, or milk, served together, so we don’t have cheese. Sorry about that.”

Tourist #1: “I mean, my pasta doesn’t have meat. It’s just zucchini and egg.”

Uncle: “Sorry, sir, but we still don’t have cheese.”

Tourist #2: *In German* “If you’re going to do this because the owner doesn’t like dairy, you can just tell us. There’s no need to make stuff up.”

Uncle: *Ignoring the comment and speaking to [Tourist #1]* “Would you like some more sauce on your pasta?”

Tourist #1: *Dejected* “If you really don’t want to give me cheese… sure.”

My uncle takes the dish to the back, asks for the cook to add a little more sauce, and then serves it back to [Tourist #1], who apparently seems unimpressed by this but still eats it all.

Then, it’s dessert time… and [Tourist #3], who has not spoken a single word up to that point, tries to ask, in a heavily accented and uneasy Italian:

Tourist #3: “Can I… get… panna cotta?”

My uncle pauses, unsure whether to burst out laughing or not.

Uncle: *In English* “It means ‘cooked cream’ in Italian. As in… gekochte Sahne. You tell me. What we do have…”

And he listed the desserts they actually had. The group asked for the check and then left. My uncle found the receipt scribbled with a drawing of a middle finger and, “No cheese? No tip!” in German under it. He preserved it, for he has found it too ridiculous to throw away.

Related:
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 6
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 5
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 4
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 3
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 2

My boyfriend and I are out for dinner. It’s a special occasion for us because it’s not some place we can normally afford. We give each other “Happy First Anniversary” cards and make the most of the evening as we know it’ll be a while before we can afford a place like this again!

Boyfriend: “Can we get the check, please?” 

Waitstaff: “Actually, your bill has been paid for this evening. You’re all set!” 

Boyfriend: “Wait, what? Seriously? By whom?”

Waitstaff: “That woman over there.”

They point to an elderly woman sitting close by.

Boyfriend: *Waving her over* “Thank you so much! Would you like to join us for coffee?”

She politely declines. On our way out, we stop to talk to her for a minute and ask her why. 

Old Woman: “Oh, I was married for forty-six years. My husband passed, but today would have been our anniversary, and here you are celebrating your first on the same day we would have celebrated our fiftieth! And in the same restaurant! It was a sign. Go, be happy, and never… ever… take a moment with each other for granted!”

We’ve taken her words to heart ever since.