My father recently lost someone he cared about. He learns about their passing while we are out having lunch, and he is devastated. We try our best to get him to feel better and he seems happy with us trying to help, but it doesn’t work, and I honestly can’t blame him for that.

Something does make him feel better, though, along with the rest of us.

Employee: “Hey, guys, how are y’all doing today?”

Us: “Good, how about you?”

Employee: “Doing good. I just stopped by to let you know that the family over at the other table paid for your entire lunch, plus the tip.”

We are all pretty touched, and my father seems to be holding back tears.

Dad: “Thank you; thank you!”

We exchange some more pleasantries and leave the restaurant in higher spirits that day. I turn to address the kids we have with us.

Me: “Remember, guys: when you get older and you’re wondering if things will get any better, remember things like this.”

I clock out from my shift at a restaurant. I’m heading out the door when a customer stops me.

Customer: “My daughter just threw up all over the table!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I just clocked out. I can’t help you — state law and all that. Sorry!”

I was so glad to be able to say that and get out of there!

I am going through chemo. Eating is a challenge, few things sound good, and fewer taste okay. I’ve learned that even water can taste bad on chemo. I am out with my mom and niece for dinner. I’ve eaten a side dish of gnocchi at this restaurant before and it actually sounds appealing.

Me: “I’m wondering if I can order a double portion of the gnocchi and no entrée? I’ve had it before and it’s really good.”

Waiter: “I’ll check and see if I can do that.”

Mom: “Just so you know, my daughter is going through chemo and rarely wants to eat, so if she can eat this, it would be great.”

The waiter comes back and says of course they will do that for me. It’s really good and it’s so nice to eat a meal!

Later, he returns with a piece of their amazing Key Lime pie for me.

Waiter: “I had a grandmother go through chemo, and citrus flavors usually worked for her. I hope you can enjoy it.”

He had me in tears. When they brought our check, they had comped my food.

We stopped on the way out to talk to his manager. It’s sad; she came out looking apprehensive since people are so much more likely to complain than compliment. We told her how much we appreciated our waiter and how kind he had been. She said she was glad we stopped; his requests had been a little odd and she was glad to meet me. She said I could come back anytime for the gnocchi. And I did!

I work in a Chinese restaurant taking orders over the phone.

Customer: “Can I have an order of lasagne?”

Me: “We don’t sell lasagne.”

Customer: “I’ve gotten it here before.”

Me: “We don’t even have an oven.”

My family is originally from Vietnam, living in Germany, and we like to go to these typical Chinese restaurants with big buffets. The waiters at one specific location have a very striking uniform, which is a bright red traditional qipao-like shirt with the restaurant’s name in bold letters on the back.

I am at the buffet stacking food on my plate when a middle-aged woman approaches me, asking me to refill some food.

Please note that I am dressed casually with my long hair down while getting food. The woman does not notice that I don’t work there until I tell her, and she even asks me to go get a waiter.

I am too confused; I tell her I simply don’t know any and walk away.

Related:
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 6
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 5
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 4
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 3
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 2