Going Off On Those Going Off The Menu

| England, UK | Right | April 6, 2016

(This pub restaurant is part of a country-wide chain and each has an identical menu. We therefore only have certain ingredients in our kitchens and never stock ingredients that aren’t on the menu. We also never have extra staff to save money on wages. I am serving a table with four adults and two children.)

Customer: “Hi. I’d like the children’s fish and chips, but could I swap the peas for beans, please?”

Me: “I’m sorry but we don’t have beans. Only garden peas, mushy peas, mixed vegetables which includes cabbage, carrots, and broccoli, or salad.”

Customer: “Oh, well, she doesn’t like green things, so could I have sweetcorn instead?”

Me: “I’m afraid we don’t have sweetcorn either. Does she like carrots? I could take out the cabbage and broccoli from the mixed vegetables, if that helps.”

Customer: “Hmm. Well are you sure you don’t have baked beans? Isn’t there a tin in the back somewhere that you could get?”

Me: “Very sure. As beans are not currently a menu item at [Chain Restaurant], I’m afraid we don’t stock them at all. Not even one tin.”

Customer: “Well couldn’t one of you just run out and get some? We’d wait.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m afraid we couldn’t. Even if we had enough staff for one of us to leave the restaurant, which we don’t, we have to purchase all of our stock from company suppliers.”

Customer: “Well, fine. She’ll have to have the carrots. I still think you could go out and get some beans or sweetcorn, though. It’s not that hard.”

(They all order and finish their main courses. I bring out dessert menus.)

Customer: “So, on the children’s menu I see the pudding options are chocolate brownie, ice cream, or jelly, right?”

Me: “Yes, that’s correct.”

Customer: “Well, could you maybe do some rice pudding for them instead? I can’t see it on the menu but maybe you could just pop out and get a tin?”

Me: *facepalm*

No Meat In Their Brain, Part 4

| Vietnam | Right | April 5, 2016

(I and my family walk in a restaurant to see a customer yelling:)

Customer: “…chicken looked like it was made of flour.  The meat tasted like potato. It’s the lowest quality food I have had in HCM city.”

(The waitress tried to talk but he was continuously yelling. If she had been able to talk she would have been able to tell him it was a vegetarian restaurant.)

Related:
No Meat In Their Brain, Part 3
No Meat In Their Brain, Part 2
No Meat In Their Brain

That’s Just How I Egg-Roll

| GA, USA | Right | April 4, 2016

(My parents own two Chinese restaurants in succession beginning when I was born. Starting fifth grade, my parents allow me to help out by cleaning dishes, peeling veggies, and bringing food out. This particular event occurs during my seventh year. My mom is just beginning to train me on how to take orders from the phone. Because of this, the speaker on the phone was normally on, and we trained during the dead hours of three to four pm.)

Customer #1: “Hi, I’d like to place a pick-up order! I have a party that starts soon!”

Me: “Sure! May I have your first and last name, please?”

(Insert exchanges of information and orders of a lot of food. At this point, the order is finalized.)

Customer #1: “And I’d also like to add six free egg rolls to that order. I’m a close friend to the owner, and she does this all the time for me.”

(This was a red flag, since I knew who the close friends were thanks to my relationship with my mom. My mom nods for me to continue.)

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t have that offer.”

Customer #1: “Listen, I can tell you’re new. The manager and I have known each other for a long time and she wouldn’t be happy to know you’re treating me like this.”

Me: “Um… I’m sorry, we don’t have that offer.”

Customer #1: “Excuse me; I can get you fired for treating me so rudely! You’re probably some stupid twerp in high school that finally got their first job after years of being a lazy b****. Let me speak to the manager!”

(My mom motions for me to give her the phone. The customer proceeds to say obscenities about me and how I threatened her while she was ordering. She proceeds to screech how shitty my parents were for raising a shitty, disrespectful kid. In the meanwhile, the waitress notified my dad and he’s standing at the desk listening in as well.)

Customer #1: “And you need to fire that little b****! Having horrible f****** teenagers like her will ruin your restaurant’s reputation!”

Mom: “That’s my daughter.”

(There was a moment of silence on the phone line, and then the lady hung the phone up. Since the order was for a party, she still came to pick up her food. My father, a 6’2”, beefy, Asian man with a large collection of cleavers, stood at the door staring her down the whole time. She never came back.)

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Putting Them In Low Spirits

| USA | Working | April 3, 2016

(My sister asks me to lunch in an upscale restaurant that I’ve never been to before. We’re both in our 30s, but I look very young, and I have no makeup on and my hair is in a messy bun. My sister looks older, very made up, and hair styled.)

Waiter: “Good afternoon. What would you like to order to drink?”

Me: “This [alcoholic drink] sounds good. I’ll have that.”

Sister: “Me, too!”

Waiter: “May I see your IDs, please?”

(We fish them out and hand them over, the waiter gives mine back with a doubtful frown at my face. He gets the drinks and brings them over. We sip.)

Me: “So good!”

Sister: “I agree.”

Me: “But I can’t taste any alcohol…”

(I tried her drink, and noticed it had a lot more alcohol in it than mine. We figured the waiter thought I had a fake ID, didn’t want to call me out on it, and didn’t put any alcohol in mine. It still tasted good, so I didn’t complain. We laughed about it for hours after.)

Should Have Gone With The First Order

, | Coruscant | Right | April 2, 2016

(I work at a fast-food place on Coruscant. A couple of robed customers come up.)

Customer #1: “I’ll have the Boba Fettuccine pasta salad with some Sarlaactose-free dip, some Darth Tatertots, and a Grand Muffin Tarkins.”

Customer #2: “I’ll get the Obi-Wan-Kebab, a side of Chewbaklava, and some Qui-Gon-Ginger-snaps.

Me: “Okay, that all comes to 159 galactic credits.”

(The customer then does a weird hand movement.)

Customer #1: “This food is free.”

(As weird as it sounds, I feel compelled to agree with them.)

Me: “This food is free.”

Customer #2: “And you will give us coupons for future free meals.”

Me: “And I will give you coupons for future free meals.”

Customer #1: *really getting into it now* “And you will bring back the McRibba-The-Hutt—”

Customer #2: *interrupting* “Dude, c’mon. Even Yoda can’t bring that back.”

Customer #1: “Fiiiiine.” *to me* “Please let us know when our order is ready.”

Me: “Certainly, sir. I’ve put that order in for you.”

(They walk aside and I serve a few more customers, when I see that their order number has come up but not been collected. I turn to my coworker who prepared the order.)

Me: “Why didn’t those two guys collect their food?”

Coworker: “I don’t know. I called out ‘Order 66 is ready!’ but then they just went all pale and just ran out the door…”

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