Sorry To Be A Burger

| South Bend, IN, USA | Right | February 17, 2016

(I am at a fairly old burger-and-shake place that my siblings and I love to go to. We have just ordered and are waiting for our food.)

Waitress: “Thanks for being patient. Here are your burgers and drinks will be right over.”

Brother: *to me* “Dude, I told her I don’t want lettuce or tomatoes on my burger.”

Me: “Well, tell her when she brings the drinks.”

(The waitress comes back with the drinks.)

Brother: “Excuse me; I didn’t want the lettuce or tomatoes on my sandwich.”

Waitress: “Oh, I’m sorry about that. Just don’t eat that sandwich and I’ll bring over a new one right away.”

(While the waitress goes to get the other burger my brother eats original one. I look at him in shock. The waitress comes back with the new burger, and it looks like we are trying to scam her.)

Me: *to my brother* “I am never going to come back here with you ever again.”

Romance Is Barred

| CT, USA | Romantic | February 16, 2016

(My boyfriend works at the bar in the restaurant we work at. Servers put the bar glasses on a platform on the other side of the bar, and then whoever is cleaning the glasses will move them over to the sink. When my boyfriend is at the sink, I bring the glasses to him so I can say a quick hello. This happens when a coworker is at the sink and I put the glasses on the other side.)

Coworker: “Whenever [Boyfriend] is at the sink, you bring him the cups. But I have to come all the way over here! It’s not fair!”

Me: “Hey, once you give me kisses and tell me I’m cute then I’ll bring the glasses to the sink for you.”

Coworker: *looks around* “Where’s [Boyfriend]? I don’t see him come here.” *jokingly leans in for a kiss*

Valentine’s Pay

, | Neuquén, Argentina | Right | February 14, 2016

(I’m the customer in this one. It’s Valentine’s Day, and although is not a really celebrated holiday in my country, the company is American. I have already ordered and I’m about to pay when the cashier smiles at me and makes me a question.)

Cashier: “Are you in love?”

(I was rejected by my crush two weeks ago, so the question doesn’t make me happy at all.)

Me: “No, not really…”

Cashier: *bummed* “…I’ll give you the discount anyway. I hate having to ask that.”

I Propose Kicking Him Out

| New Orleans, LA, USA | Right | February 14, 2016

(I work at an upscale, very romantic restaurant. Valentine’s Day is our biggest night of the year, we’re booked solid for weeks in advance. It’s not uncommon for people to propose, so I’m not surprised when I see another waiter putting an engagement ring in a cake. A few moments later I hear the girl shrieking “yes!” and clapping. Another couple flags me down.)

Male Customer: “What’s happening over there?”

Me: “I think it was a proposal.”

Female Customer: “Oh, that is so romantic!”

Male Customer: *frowns at me* “You’d better cancel the champagne, then.”

Me: “Sir?”

Male Customer: *stabs at his plate* “You can forget the champagne and the strawberries. You’ve ruined the surprise now.”

(The female customer and I exchange looks.)

Me: “Sir?”

Male Customer: “You let that guy propose. I can’t propose now. I’ll look like I’m copying him!”

Female Customer: “Propose?!”

Male Customer: “Not anymore. These idiots ruined it! How could you let someone else propose!”

Me: “Sir, I had no idea you were going to propose.”

Male Customer: “Well, how are you going to compensate me for your mistake?”

Me: “Sir?”

Female Customer: “Honey, it’s not her fault.”

Male Customer: “They ruined our evening. This should have been magical. I demand to see the manager!”

(I go and get the manager. The couple are whispering back and forth and don’t look happy. Other customers and giving them anxious glances.)

Manager: “Sir, is there a problem?”

Male Customer: “Yes! You ruined my evening by letting that man propose!”

Manager: “Sir, we are not responsible for guest’s proposals.”

Male Customer: “Yes, you are! You knew I was going to propose and your staff let him do it first! And I can’t propose after him!”

Manager: “Sir, I don’t know what we could have done to prevent this. Our staff cannot tell people not to propose.”

Male Customer: *yelling* “Yes, you can! I reserved a proposal!”

(By now a lot of guests are staring.)

Manager: “Sir, please keep your voice down.”

Male Customer: “No! I will not be treated like this. You ruined my entire evening and now you’re acting like I’m the bad guy!”

Manager: “Sir, if you do not calm down I will ask to you leave.”

(The man begins yelling “ruined!” over and over again, and starts throwing his food on the floor. We end up calling the police to get him out. Throughout all of this his companion silently watches. As the police drag him out, still screaming she opens her purse and puts a wad of cash on the table.)

Female Customer: “That’s for saving me from a terrible marriage. Have a good evening.”

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Lost The Blame Game

| OH, USA | Working | February 14, 2016

(I am a hostess in an Italian restaurant, and when I came in, I was trained with a large group of people. Being 17 years old, I am often surprised at the behavior of one of the waiters, who is about 40, who prides himself on his great service, but more often than not makes a lot of mistakes and tries put the blame on his coworkers.)

Waiter: “This is great! The family I’m waiting on is ordering a lot. I bet I make bank with this tip.”

Everyone Else: *ignores him and carries on with their work*

(A while later, he brings back plates from said family’s table. The plates still have some food on them, but he puts them in the area we have that is explicitly set for dishes that are to be scraped and then given to the dishwashers. The busboys start on them.)

Waiter: *bursting into the kitchen* “Don’t get rid of the food from that table, they want to box—”

(The busboys look up while I am in the middle of putting some of the food into the garbage.)

Me: “[Waiter], I am so sorry, but we didn’t know they wanted to food saved, and you put it—”

Waiter: “OH, come ON, [My Name]!”

(I’m pretty soft-spoken, so I say nothing as he hurries back out to the dining area. I put the rest of the plates from that table aside and continue helping the busboys.)

Dishwasher: “Hey, [My Name], don’t let him intimidate you. He pulls crap like that all the time, and we know it. It was his fault, not yours, so don’t let him get you down.”

Me: *still worried* “Thanks, I’ll try.”

(A few minutes later, the waiter returns, with a weird smile on his face.)

Waiter: “Hey, [My Name], we’re all good now. The table is just waiting for more food to be made so they can take it home.”

Me: “Oh, good! I hope they’re not too upset about having to wait.”

Waiter: “Oh, they’re not. I just told them your name, what you look like, and that it was your fault, and that they can blame you if they want!”

Me: *not knowing what to say* “Uh, okay…”

(I head back out the dining area to get back to helping the other hostesses, as more customers were starting to come in. I seat a table, and pass by the family waiting for the food that I had thrown out.)

Father: “Hey, are you [My Name]?”

Me: “Yes, I am, and I am so sorry that you have to wait for more food. I shouldn’t have—”

Father: “No, no, don’t worry about it. When [Waiter] told us that we should blame you for the leftovers being gone, I got a little suspicious, and when you came out and we saw how young you are, I knew he was being a jerk. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

Me: “Thank you so much for understanding!”

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