I once overheard a customer going off on a waitress.

Customer: “I ordered buffalo wings. These are clearly chicken! How dare you try to cheat me?!”

I will never ever, ever, ever forget this customer.

Customer: “I’d like [beef dish], but I don’t eat beef due to my beliefs. I’d like to have my beef substituted with steak, instead.”

Me: *Calmly* “Ma’am, steak is beef; the only difference is the cut.”

Customer: “I said I want steak and not beef! Are you stupid? I do this at other restaurants without a problem!”

I just went along with it.

I think about this moment a lot. Who’s gonna tell her?

I meet a woman at a restaurant for a second date. It’s early days and things are still nervous but exciting.

We talk for a bit and then order starters. They take a long time to come and then arrive just as I stand up to use the bathroom. I apologise and tell my date that I will be right back.

After a very short queue, I return to find the table being cleared of food.

Me: “What happened to the starters?”

Woman: “Oh, err, yes, I… I had mine, but yours looked terrible so I asked them to take it back.”

Me: “Err, okay.”

Woman: “Don’t worry; they said the mains wouldn’t be long.”

We talk some more until the mains arrive. Mine is delicious, but she doesn’t like hers. She pouts until I offer to share mine. She takes near half!

Still hungry, I order a dessert.

Woman: “Oh, that was lovely. What did you have again? Can I try it?”

Me: “Sorry, mine was so good that I finished it.”

I made sure of it.

Woman: *Abruptly* “Okay, shall we get the bill? I have work in the morning.”

Me: “Sure.”

She waits until the bill arrives.

Woman: “Thank you for treating me.”

Oh, I see.

Me: “Oh, it was a treat for me, too. Thanks for offering to pay half.”

Woman: “But I didn’t.”

Me: “We will split the bill, thanks.”

There was no third date. Thankfully.

Every so often we get a celebrity in the restaurant. I’ve never been here when it’s happened.

We’re not too far from our city’s main concert venue, but the owner still has a strict “no comping meals for anyone based on star power” policy that we’re all apprised of when we’re hired. His logic is that it’ll start as just one exception and turn into all sorts of D-listers sniffing around looking for an ego boost.

Ironically, this has never been a problem because the one or two times we’ve had REAL celebrities in, they’ve never expected a free meal; they’ve paid and tipped well.

It’s only the D-listers who act all shocked when the check comes. But we almost never get them either, so it’s really no big deal. Until last week, that is.

We’re located right by my college, and a girl who attends my college was recently on “The Dr. Phil Show.” She was not a featured guest, and she did not even appear in person; she was just teleconferenced in for, like, three total minutes to weigh in on the featured guest’s relationship.

But, because she “was on TV!” she thought she was the hottest thing to have ever happened on campus.

I’d heard a few people joking about how she was going around telling everyone she was a celebrity and how she kept expecting people to recognize her. It sounded really cringy and terrible.

But I don’t know her, and I hadn’t even seen the show, so what did I care? It was fun gossip for ten seconds, but I quickly forgot about it.

However, the girl’s self-absorption wasn’t completely baseless. There are a lot more students on campus than usual this summer because so many took gap semesters to avoid Zoom school during the health crisis. Not much is happening around here as we ease back into normal life, so people did get unreasonably excited about someone from our school being on national TV.

She was sort of being treated like a celebrity and she was getting a lot of special attention. She even got some free things on campus and had some people ask to take a photo with her — in an ironic sense, but she didn’t understand that.

She decided to start testing the waters off-campus, and I guess she met with some success because most of the nearby businesses are staffed with students. She soon appeared in our restaurant.

She was a nightmare from the moment she stepped in the door. I didn’t recognize her at first, but it all clicked as she was demanding a four-top despite being a party of one. We were okay with it only because we weren’t especially busy.

She didn’t make eye contact with her server. (She wasn’t my section, but I ate up every second of her visit with us once I realized who she was.)

The first thing I heard her say after the server said hi and introduced himself was, “Menu, water, new fork,” like she was writing out a list.

Her server was only just bumped up from trainee status and he’s barely sixteen, so it especially sucked that she was dumped on him. He’s incredibly shy and sweet. If I’d anticipated the s***storm this woman blew in with her, I’d have swapped with him, but this all happened pretty quickly and I’ll usually do anything to avoid serving classmates I don’t like.

Of course, nothing on our menu was acceptable to her as-is. She had to get a ton of substitutions and additions. Even her side salad of mixed greens had to be — not kidding — “unmixed.” She wanted each lettuce, but separately on the plate. Her server explained that the greens came pre-mixed, but she just stared blankly past him and went, “So, separate it?” as though it were the most obvious thing ever.

The kitchen actually accommodated all of her requests because it was a really slow day and there were easy enough solutions to each thing, but she still sent at least one of her plates back.

In the twenty or so minutes it took for her food to come out, she asked us how much longer it would take FOUR times.

She demanded we change the music we had on to a playlist of hers, instead, she made comments about the lighting, and by the time she was finished eating, we were seconds away from throwing her out.

Server: “Was everything all right? Do you need anything else?”

Customer: “No, I’m good.”

Server: “Okay. I’ll be right back with the check.”

I could tell from her face, even as far away as I was, that she wasn’t expecting a check. She looked all sour and twisted. I was dying internally; it was so satisfying.

But then, she stood up and calmly just… walked right out the door. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing at first. I thought maybe she’d gone to get her wallet from her car or something, but this isn’t the kind of place where a lot of people drive. And I just knew in my gut I had to follow up because her server definitely wouldn’t.

I went out the door and, yep, she was traipsing down the street, tapping away on her phone like nothing was wrong in the world.

I called out to her, and she half-turned around. Then, realizing I was from the restaurant, she tried to pretend she hadn’t heard me and went right back to walking, quickening her pace a little. I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t so pissed.

I jogged to catch up with her. I tried to keep the situation nice and calm and allow her to save as much face as possible.

Me: “Oh, hi, sorry, there’s just still the matter of the bill.”

I knew d*** well that she didn’t forget, but I figured confronting her would just feed into unnecessary drama.

She looked at me in total disbelief.

Customer: *Without a hint of sarcasm or embarrassment* “I was going to Instagram my meal with you. That’s typically enough when I go out.”

I did know who she was because her reaction to being on TV was such a laughingstock on campus, so maybe this was a little mean, but I couldn’t resist.

Me: “Sorry… who are you?”

And she lost it.

Customer: “You know exactly who I am! You’re just jealous of me! That’s why you’re forcing me to pay for my food!”

I didn’t want to be gratuitously mean, so rather than antagonize further, though it was very low-hanging fruit, I just told her:

Me: “Look. If you don’t plan to pay, we’ll have to involve the police.”

She laughed.

Customer: “Well, if you don’t know who I am, you won’t be able to find me, right?”

Honestly, she had me there. But I didn’t need to admit to her that I really knew who she was, because for all she knew, we had security cameras or would just describe her really well.

So, I let her walk off. I went back to the restaurant and called the police. It was absurdly easy to track her down because I did know who she was, and she was posting geotagged posts online all day, including a super angry post about how she had eaten at our restaurant and it had been terrible.

So, she incriminated herself and led the police right to her. I doubt the cops would’ve followed up so diligently if it were only us, but apparently, she’d walked out on a couple of other places that genuinely didn’t recognize her and expected her to pay up. And she posted angrily about how the businesses sucked, further incriminating herself.

They didn’t know who she was, but they described her well enough, and that paired with the post was enough for the police to drag her in. Our trainee server actually had to go down to the station and identify her. He was terrified when he was first asked, but when he came back, he was totally giddy and thought the whole experience was pretty cool. At least, cooler than working his shift.

I take a customer’s order and payment.

Me: “Thank you! It’s coming right up. You can either wait outside or have a seat in our waiting area.”

Customer: “No. I’d like to stand.”

Me: “That’s fine, but please do so outside or in our waiting area.”

Customer: “Oh, because I’m not allowed to stand now, either?! I am fine right here! You guys are taking this [health crisis] thing way too far! It’s ridiculous!”

Me: “This isn’t about [health crisis]. You are blocking the register, and I’m guessing the lady waiting behind you would like to order.”

Customer #2: “Yes, please.”

He got so flustered!