Another Sunday, another story of the after-church diner crowd. After a long time of receiving religious flyers instead of tips from these people, my manager gets an idea. As we’re opening on Sunday morning:

Manager: “Here, I made these over the last week. Keep some in your apron and dish them out when appropriate.”

He lays out a selection of home-made and printed ‘religious’ flyers, with titles like:

• A brief history of why Jesus would’ve left 20%.
• Jesus loves everyone, but the waitstaff have notes.
• Why the power of prayer does not extend to making rent.
• Forgive them, Father; they know exactly what they owe.

I took one of each, and it didn’t take long before I had to use one. A family has paid and is up and leaving when I catch up to them at the exit.

Me: “Excuse me, I wanted to say thank you for the tip!”

Customers: *Looking awkward.* “Uh, well, thanks. We think the word of God is priceless, so—”

Me: “—yes, yes, I get all that. I figured since you were kind enough to give me one of yours, I’ll give you one of mine.”

I hand them the flyer, and the dad takes it before reading it. His face pales when he sees the title.

Title: “Voodoo, curses, and summoning entities: dealing with cheap customers the right way.”

Me: *Customer service smile turned up to maniacal.* “This should be a good guide to everything that’s about to happen, starting from tonight!”

He drops the flyer immediately and ushers his family out. They haven’t been back since, but I like to think that for every little unexplained noise they hear in their home, they think of me and my smile.

My friend can sometimes be a bit of a know-it-all, but to be fair, he knows quite a bit. He has an occasional bad habit of overhearing other conversations that contain incorrect information, and butting in to correct them. 

We’ve spoken to him about reining it in and minding his own business.

We’re at a booth in a restaurant, and we overhear a couple of guys having this conversation one booth over:

Guy #1: “Hey, what’s that movie where Nicolas Cage gets his face taken off?”

Guy #2: “He takes his face off? Oh, I’m not sure.”

Guy #1: “Well, it’s got some other guy who takes his face off, too.”

Guy #2: “They both get their faces off? Hmm, I think it sounds familiar, but I can’t remember.”

My friend stares at me, pleadingly.

Me: “Yeah, go on. Put them out of their misery… and ours.”

Everyone in both booths was happy for him to tell them about John Woo’s action masterpiece, ‘Face/Off’.

CORRECTION: A misspelling has been corrected.

This is the story of a woman whom I will forever refer to as “Arugula Lady.” 

When I was in high school, I worked part-time as a waitress at a chain restaurant. One day, Arugula Lady was seated by herself in my section. After bringing her her drink, she started ordering. Everything was normal until she asked me a question about one of our salads.

Arugula Lady: “What’s arugula?”

Me: “It’s a type of leafy green. It’s a little peppery, if you’re into that.”

She gave me a funny look, but she ordered the salad, and I brushed off the look as my imagination. Shortly after this, my manager pulled me aside.

Manager: “I wanna get your side of the story, because the woman at table three just told me that you were flirting with her, and that doesn’t sound like you.”

Here I will add that, not only am I straight, but Arugula Lady was quite likely old enough to be my mother. I was so confused that the only thing that came out of my mouth was:

Me: “What?”

Manager: “Yeah, she said you asked about what she was ‘into’?”

It clicked, and I explained what actually happened.

Manager: *Chuckling.* “So, she’s a nut. I figured as much. Tell you what. I’ll cover her table. I have a feeling she’s gonna be a problem otherwise.”

I was very grateful, as Arugula Lady sent me dirty looks every time I passed her. I ignored her and focused on my other tables. After she left, my manager showed me a copy of her check while shaking his head in amusement. I laughed too when I saw what Arugula Lady wrote down as the “tip.”

Arugula Lady: “I have no problem with you hiring lesbians, but make sure they don’t flirt with your customers.”

There’s a corkboard in the back where we pin the checks customers wrote goofy things on, and the stories behind them, if any. I was proud to finally have something to contribute.

My brother is back from a military tour, so the whole family has gathered for a meal to enjoy his company. This includes the one bad uncle that all families have.

Uncle: “Hey, [Brother], now that the Republicans are back in power, is the military less gay?”

My Dad: “[Uncle], careful now.”

Uncle: “What? I’m just asking.”

Brother: “It’s as gay as it’s always been and always will be, [Uncle]. These days, the only ones who care are the unemployed fat-a** civilians who have nothing better to do than shout at the TV!”

Uncle: “I gotta job!”

This is true. [Uncle] has a job, technically, as a school bus driver, but is on unpaid suspension while he is under investigation for possible DUI.

Me: *Trying to turn the meal around.* “Anyway, [Brother], now that you’re back for a few weeks, do you want to—”

Uncle: “—The military was better when it was that don’t ask, don’t tell thing! Now it’s all feelings and marines making TikToks and having pronouns!”

My Dad: “[Uncle], that’s enough! F****** stop!”

Uncle: “Yeah, well f*** you! And f*** your pronouns! We didn’t need them when I was a kid!”

Grandma: *Butting in out of nowhere.* “Weren’t your favorite cartoons as a kid, He-Man and She-Ra?”

Uncle was confused, some of us laughed, and I was FINALLY able to change the subject. I don’t know why we allow [Uncle] to come to these things anymore…

Related:
When They’re Not Pro Pronoun, Part 4
When They’re Not Pro Pronoun, Part 3
When They’re Not Pro Pronoun, Part 2
When They’re Not Pro Pronoun

It’s an extremely slow Sunday night in the casual fine dining restaurant I work in. There is an older gentleman, about mid-eighties, by himself, sitting in my section. He orders a glass of wine, and I proceed to go over a few menu items with him.

He thinks our braised short ribs sound good and orders this. Now, mind you, it’s like 4 PM and there are two other tables with diners in the whole restaurant. His food comes out in about ten minutes, and this man loses his mind.

Customer: “Why did this food come out already? I haven’t had time to enjoy my wine! Take the food back and I’ll let you know when I’m ready to eat.”

Me: “I apologize. That’s no problem; in the future, if you want to have some time before the food comes out, mention that when you order, as we put the order in when it’s placed. We will gladly wait however long you would like.”

Customer: “Don’t tell me what I should be doing, you should know that if someone orders a glass of wine, they need time to just enjoy the wine, that’s your job!”

He then spends the next twenty minutes telling my manager the same thing and how bad I am at my job. Of course, after he eats everything, he then wants his food comped. My manager was like, “Nope, but have a great night, and just remember if you want time, be sure to ask!”

Don’t think he’ll be coming back in.