I’ve been working as a server or bartender since I was sixteen years old. I’ve gotten used to plenty of rude customers over the eight years I’ve been in this worksphere, but this one takes first place.

I recently quit working as a server — yay! — and started working from 11:00 am to 7:00 pm as a store clerk. The position is better paid and works better for me. I live in a small tourist town where most people know each other and there are A LOT of tourists during the summer. My brother has a restaurant that is open from mid-spring until early autumn. I help out whenever he needs it after I finish my other job at 7:00 pm.

Monday is a national holiday in my country, and the weekend is expected to be very busy. And it is. I can barely keep up with the tables I have, things are getting hectic in the kitchen, and it is really slow there.

I bring menus to two guys who have just been seated, and as I’m leaving their table to get to some other customers, one of the guys stops me and, with no intention of reading the menu, asks me:

Guy: “What beers do you have?”

Me: “They are all listed in the menu; you can see them there. I’ll be right back with you, sir, just one mo—”

Guy: “I ain’t reading that. JUST TELL ME WHAT BEERS YOU HAVE!”

Used to this kind of customer, I just explain what we have.

Guy: “Was it so hard to tell me? Bring me this one, and some fish and some fries.”

Me: “Sir, it’s very busy right now, and it’ll take at least forty minutes for the fries and the fish to be ready. Can I offer you some salads or something on the barbecue while the rest gets ready?”

Guy: “DO I LOOK LIKE SOMEONE WHO IS GONNA WAIT? My child will be here in ten minutes, and if the fish isn’t here, I WILL NOT BE PAYING!”

Me: *Getting irritated* “Sir, there are tons of other orders before you, and we cannot bring yours before that.”

Guy: “I DON’T CARE! WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME THAT I HAVE TO WAIT?! BRING IT OR ELSE—”

Already fed up with everything, I cut him off.

Me: “Dude, first of all, you have no right to speak to me like that. Second, your order will not be ready in less than forty minutes because there are other customers before you and because I’m not going to serve you! Get out of here!”

I go to my other tables as I have three who are waiting to order, get their orders, and continue to do my job. I stop by the kitchen and let my brother know what’s going on.

Five minutes pass by, and this guy comes to the bar and asks to see the boss; my brother works as a chef every day, and this guy clearly knows him but not me.

Guy: “[Brother]! Your server says he doesn’t want to serve me! What is this?!”

Brother: “Yeah, that server is my brother, and you were in the wrong, acting like a jacka**.”

The guy’s mouth drops open wide.

Guy: “This is your brother, [Brother]? I’m so sorry. I didn’t know!” *To me* “Accept my apologies. I didn’t know you were his brother!”

Me: “Whatever. Just know you were in the wrong, no matter whether I was the owner’s brother or not.”

He stayed, and I had to serve him anyway. He was all apologetic for the rest of the night and left a decent tip.

I was fuming for the rest of the night because of that. Why does he think that it’s okay to be rude to the servers as long as they aren’t related to the owner? What the heck?

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.

I’m eating in a non-full-service restaurant. You order at the counter with the cashier, they give you a pager, and then you return the pager when it goes off in exchange for your food.

I’m eating my food when I find a hair in it. Grossed out, I bring the food back up to the counter.

Me: “Hi. I just found a hair in my burger.”

Worker #1: *Giving me a blank stare* “And what do you want me to do about it?”

Me: “Remake it without hair, please.”

Worker #1: “Why? Can’t you just pull it out and keep eating?”

I have no idea what to say to that, but thankfully, another worker steps in.

Worker #2: “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this. Just give us a few minutes to remake it and it’ll be right out.”

I was promptly delivered a new burger, this time with no hair.

I was a food runner at a Korean barbecue place. I had to give some meat to this middle-aged southeast Asian couple. I was surprised because I don’t see many southeast Asians around my area, and I was happy to see a fellow Southeast Asian.

When I gave them their food, I asked them what their ethnicity was.

Lady: “We’re Vietnamese.”

Me: “No way! There aren’t many southeast Asians here! I’m Lao and Filipino.”

Lady: “Oh, my! I haven’t met a Lao person before!”

Me: “Yeah, me, either. I only see them in my hometown.”

Lady: “Your hometown? Where are you from?”

Me: “I’m from [City]! I moved here because of university.”

Lady: “Oh, wow! You go to school and you work?”

Me: *Laughing* “Yeah, gotta pay for that tuition!”

After that, I had to go back to get more food. We waved and smiled a few times.

After the lady paid for their meal, she started asking my manager where I was. I went up to her and asked if she needed anything. She proceeded to ask for my name and what I was studying, etc. — just a nice conversation, which I didn’t expect.

She took my hand and put a $100 bill into it.

Lady: “I want you to enjoy school.”

I felt I was going to cry. It was so sweet. I thanked her so much and wished her well. Her husband was smiling, admiring the scene.

If that lady reads this, I just want to say thank you so much. You made my day that day. I wish the best for you!

I’m twenty, and I have been working in the restaurant business since I was fourteen. I have seen numerous amounts of people come and go, both customers and coworkers. About four years ago, I became a server at the local small business, and I thought I’d seen how far people really take things. 

About five months ago, I had a party come into my restaurant with two adults and three children. They sat down in my section, and I already had a bad feeling about them. At first, when I went to start them off with drinks, one of them was on the phone, and both of the adults completely ignored me. So I asked again what drinks they’d like, and the kids started screaming out drinks.

Me: *To the adults* “Is it okay to give them those?”

Mom: “Sure, whatever.”

Me: “Okay. What would you like to drink, ma’am?”

Still no answer. I brought the kids their drinks, and I brought the adults water just in case.

Mom: “Do the kids’ drinks come free with their meals?”

Me: “Yes, as long as you buy them kid’s meals.”

I then left them alone for a few minutes to look over the menu.

I went back about five minutes later and told them that the kitchen would be closing in about twenty minutes, just so they wouldn’t be blindsided. They ordered, and I continued serving others and cleaning up for closing.

I brought out their food and they started eating. Mind you, they got a meal for each kid — so their drinks were free since they all got fountain drinks — and the adults got two meals each plus two drinks each — drinks they asked other servers for, thinking I wouldn’t add them to the check.

I went to check on them halfway through, and they said they didn’t like the food, so I asked if something was wrong with it; it was half-eaten.

Mom: “No, I just don’t like it and I wanted to try it.”

This was for both of their second meals.

Me: “Okay. Would you like me to throw it out?”

Dad: “Yes.”

So, I did.

The meal went on, and I dropped off their checks. I knew they were going to have an issue with it since I hadn’t taken off the second meals.

They called me over.

Dad: “Why didn’t you take off those meals?!”

Me: “I don’t have the managers’ code to do that.”

I actually did.

They asked for a manager, who went over to talk to them.

Manager: “We don’t take food off if you just don’t like it!”

They weren’t very happy with that answer. Then, they complained that I pressured them to get more food — as if that’s not my job — and threatened to walk out, screaming.

Dad: “I’m not paying for this s*** food!”

Mom: “Go ahead and call the police on me!”

Dad: “You are making me look like the bad guy in front of my kids!”

We called the police, who forced them to pay, and they were trespassed.

They called and threatened my coworkers and me for days after.