A Repeated Mis-Steak

| Toronto, ON, Canada | Working | October 1, 2015

(Every year my two best friends and their boyfriends come to stay with me and my boyfriend for a week or so. We’re all guys, and at the time this happens we are all in our late 20s. My boyfriend is a self-described foodie, and he wants to try out a new restaurant he’s heard of. We don’t make a reservation as it is in the middle of the week and during the early afternoon. The restaurant is nearly empty. My boyfriend, I, and one other of us order the lamb.)

Waiter: *returning a few minutes after taking the orders* “I’m sorry, but we only have two portions of the lamb left. Would any of you order something different?”

Boyfriend: “I will. Can I see the menu again?”

(The waiter rolls his eyes, walks away, gets a menu, and returns. My boyfriend looks it over.)

Boyfriend: “I’ll have the steak, medium rare.”

Waiter: “With [Side #1] or [Side #2]?”

Boyfriend: “[Side #1].”

(The waiter storms off. We talk and enjoy the wine we’ve ordered. About ten minutes later the food arrives – except for my boyfriend’s.)

Boyfriend: “Ummm. Where’s my steak?”

Waiter: “It’ll still be a few minutes because it wasn’t ordered with everything else.”

(The waiter returns to the kitchen, and we all just shrug. My boyfriend tells us to eat so it doesn’t get cold. Another five minutes pass before the waiter returns with my boyfriend’s meal.)

Boyfriend: *sees that the steak came with [Side #2] not [Side #1] and when he cuts into the steak sees that it’s well done; he waves the waiter back* “Um. This isn’t what I ordered. The steak is well done, and I asked for [Side #1].”

Waiter: “We’re out of [Side #1], and you ordered it well done.”

Boyfriend: “No. I ordered it medium rare. Could I get this remade, please?”

(The waiter takes the plate, and storms off. Eventually he returns with a new steak. The steak is beyond rare, looking like they just seared it and stuck it on the plate. My boyfriend waves the waiter back.)

Boyfriend: “This still isn’t what I ordered. This time it’s barely cooked! And it isn’t even on a fresh plate. Could I have it remade again, medium rare, and on a fresh plate?”

(The waiter storms off again.)

Friend #1: “Third time’s the charm?”

(By now, most of us are nearly finished our meals. The waiter returns a minute later.)

Waiter: “We don’t have any more steak. Would you like something else?”

Boyfriend #1: *to the waiter* “It’s the middle of the day, in the middle of the week, and you don’t have any more steak or lamb?”

Waiter: “It’s been a busy week.”

Me: *under my breath* “I doubt that.”

Boyfriend: “Fine. I’ll just have a [very simple salad].”

(We all look at each other as the waiter leaves.)

Me: “Odds on that they won’t have lettuce?”

Boyfriend #1: “It’s like Star Trek: Generations: ‘Everything’ll arrive on Tuesday!’.”

(The waiter eventually returns with the [very simple salad], very overdressed and not at all appealing. He also brings the bill.)

Boyfriend #2: “We didn’t ask for the bill yet.”

Waiter: “You’ve all eaten now.”

Boyfriend: *after waiter walks away* “That’s fine. We’ll just pay and leave.”

(I take a look over the bill and laugh.)

Boyfriend: “What?”

Me: “There are three lamb on this bill, and two steaks with two side dishes. He never removed any of the dishes we didn’t eat. He just kept adding them on.”

Boyfriend: “Seriously?”

Me: “Seriously.”

(I wave over the waiter again and ask for a new bill with the items removed. He doesn’t say anything but takes the bill and returns a minute later. I look it over. The lamb is removed, but one steak is still on.)

Me: “It’s still wrong.”

Boyfriend: *takes the bill from me and waves the waiter over* “Okay, now, look. I didn’t eat the steak, so it shouldn’t be on the bill.”

Waiter: “You cut into it.”

Boyfriend: “I cut into both, and you took one off. Take the other off.”

(The waiter walks off again, and returned with a third bill. This time it is right, but he’s added a 15% gratuity that wasn’t there on the previous bills. By now Friend #1 has had enough. He waves the waiter over.)

Friend #1: “Okay. This is ridiculous. Three times you had to return to our table to tell us that you’re out of food. There’s barely anyone else in this restaurant. It’s the middle of the week. You’ve given us attitude this whole time, and given us the bill wrong 4 times. Now you’ve even added a gratuity to the bill. We won’t pay it like this. We want the gratuity removed, because you’re d*** not going to get 15% from us. And, you’re going to pull off at least one of the bottles of wine because that’s what a good restaurant would do. Right?”

(The waiter glared at Friend #1, but took the bill and walked away. We all got out our cash as we waited for the bill to come back. It did, and when we checked it, the gratuity had been removed but the wine was still there. We decided to just let it go. We paid the bill exactly, and left. We picked up a burger for my boyfriend who was still hungry, since he’d not really had anything to eat. About two months later my boyfriend and I were in the area where the restaurant was, and we saw that it had been replaced by a bookstore. We still go to the bookstore, and their customer service is certainly miles ahead of that restaurant.)

Try To Turn That Frown Upside Down

| AB, Canada | Right | September 30, 2015

(It’s Valentine’s Day, and we offer heart shaped pizzas on this day, so you can probably imagine how busy it is. I am on phones and I didn’t leave my spot the whole night because the phone was ringing non-stop.)

Me: “[Restaurant], [My Name] speaking. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, so I got this f****** heart shaped pizza and it doesn’t even look like a heart. It looks like a distorted spade. It looks mushed-up and gross. And it took way too long! Two and a half hours for a pizza!”

(The wait time for delivery has been up to 3 hours and 45 minutes.)

Me: “I am sorry, ma’am. We can send you another or give you a voucher.”

Customer: “No, I don’t ever want to ever f***ing order from here again. It doesn’t even look like a heart! It’s a frigging spade! I’m taking pictures and posting it online!”

Me: “Have you tried flipping this pizza around?”

Customer: “Mhmph.” *shuffling of box noise* “Okay, you got me on that! But this is unacceptable! Let me talk to your manager!”

Allergic To Common Sense, Part 6

, | San Antonio, TX, USA | Right | September 29, 2015

Me: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’d like a combo number three, please.”

Me: “Okay, what size would you like that combo?”

Customer: “No tomatoes! I’m extremely allergic to tomatoes!”

Me: “Not a problem, sir. I’ll personally ensure there are no tomatoes on your sandwich. Now, what size did you want your combo?”

Customer: “Eh, medium, I guess. Oh! Can I get extra ketchup on that?”

Me: “…Sir, ketchup is made from tomatoes.”

Customer: “Yeah, and?”

Me: “Sir, you’re allergic to tomatoes.”

Customer: “Yeah, that’s why I ordered it without tomatoes!”

Me: “But, you want extra ketchup—”

Customer: *interrupts, but still clueless* “Yeah!”

Me: “Which is made from tomatoes…”

Customer: “…”

(I gave him his total, he paid, and I served him his sandwich exactly as he ordered it.)

 

Not Giving Anything Today

| Los Angeles, CA, USA | Working | September 29, 2015

(I’m hosting and have just seated a guest who tries to order with me because they are in a hurry. I inform them that I do not have the capability to do so, but will have a server out to them right away. Apparently, she thinks I am very rude and decides to complain to a manager. This conversation takes place immediately after.)

Manager: “Do you know how many f***s I started with today?”

Me: “About a dozen?”

Manager: “Yes, exactly twelve. Do you know how many I have left?”

Me: “I’m guessing you’ve run out by now.”

Manager: “Nope, I still have them all because I’m just not giving a f*** today.”

Un-Beer-leavable

| Berkeley, CA, USA | Working | September 28, 2015

(I’m on a first date. Just as we are finishing our meal, a waiter walks by with a carafe of beer, stumbles, and drops it on me, soaking me from head to toe.)

Date: *staring in horror, afraid I’m going to start screaming* “Are you okay?”

Me: *laughing too hard to respond, I just wave my hands at him*

(I get napkins handed me from tables all around – because the waiter has run off – and dry off as best as I can. We make plans to walk around while I dry off, so I don’t soak my car. Then the bill arrives…)

Date: “Umm… you charged us full price?”

Waiter: “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

Date: “Maybe because you soaked her in someone else’s beer?”

Waiter: “You didn’t complain. I can’t do anything about it.”

(We insist on speaking to a manager, who comes over.)

Manager: “I can’t give you a discount. Do you want some more rolls?”

Me: “No, we’re full. That’s why we asked for the bill.”

Manager: “Well, how about a free drink?”

Me: “No thanks, I already had one!”

(And yes, they charged us full price after all that. We found the owner on the way out and he blew us off, too.)

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