They Wanted Skinny Fries

, , , , | Right | November 6, 2018

(I work in a bar and restaurant chain with a pretty diverse menu. We have many meals that are listed twice — one normal that comes with fries, or a “skinny” option with salad, instead. This happens far too often.)

Customer: “I’d like a skinny chicken burger, please.”

Me: “That’s the burger and salad, right?”

Customer: “Yeah, the skinny chicken burger.”

(Transaction completed, we deliver the food.)

Customer: “Where are my fries?!”

Karma Is Sweet Wine

, , , | Right | November 5, 2018

(It’s a busy night at the club where I work as a food runner. We’re booked to full capacity, and everyone is demanding tons of drinks and food. I’m in the kitchen waiting for an order to finish when one of the floor servers comes in.)

Server: “Hey, Table #12 says they haven’t gotten their food.”

Me: “Table #12? Four women? Yeah, I brought them their food an hour ago.”

Server: “Well, they claim they haven’t gotten any of it.”

Me: “You serious?! I cleared it off ten minutes ago when I brought them another round! They had five different dishes!”

Server: “Well, [Boss] says to cook their food again; they’re complaining like crazy and getting loud.”

Me: “Okay, okay, fine.”

(Now, because we have to add their food into the queue, that means the dishes come out one at a time, instead of all together when they are usually ordered. So, in between serving other customers, I have to bring Table #12’s dishes out as they’re ready. The ladies at the table — one in particular — are very vocal about how long they have to wait and are extremely rude when I bring it. Finally, I get the last dish out.)

Me: “Here you are, ma’am. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Rude Customer: *ignores me, inspecting her food by the light of her phone*

Me: *forced sincerity* “Have a good evening, ladies.”

(Table #12 is close to a server’s station, where the server who told me to redo the food is standing. She has several dirty dishes on the counter from bussing tables. I go over to lend a hand.)

Me: “Everything going good?”

Server: “Yeah, just trying to get these checks paid out. Can you take those dishes, please?”

Me: “Sure.”

(I pick them up and turn around. What she didn’t tell me is that one of the trays has a full glass of wine on it. In the two steps it takes for me to walk past Table #12, I see the glass wobble. Before I can catch it, it tips over, spilling directly onto the rude customer at Table #12.)

Me: “Oh, s***!”

Rude Customer: “What the f***?!”

Rude Customer’s Friends: “Holy h***!”

Server: “Oh, God!”

(The customer shoots me a look of pure murder. The server grabs napkins and starts dabbing off the customer. I quickly retreat to the back where our bar area is. Walking past the bartender, I grab a glass of vodka, pour a shot, and down it.)

Bartender: “What happened?”

Me: “So, there I was in the kitchen…”

(In the end, Table #12 got their food and drinks for free, getting away with more than just their double-food scam, but the customer had to deal with being soaked in wine. I never planned to spill that wine on the customer, but I must say, karma is sweet.)

Letting Them Know Your Plan Was Your First Mis-Steak

, , , , , | Right | November 2, 2018

(I am working on the patio at large restaurant. It doesn’t close early like most places, and I get a woman by herself later in the evening. She looks like she may be homeless, but when I greet her she is very nice, so I don’t judge.)

Customer: “I’ll have a glass of red wine, a New York strip cooked medium with a loaded baked potato, and a cup of French onion soup. I’ll also take the salad, with bleu cheese dressing.”

Me: “Absolutely, ma’am. I’ll be right out with your wine. Would you like water, as well?”

Customer: “Yes, thank you. Such a pleasant young man!”

(Everything goes smoothly, her drinks and food come out in a timely fashion, and there is no issue. She orders another glass of wine after the meal, and midway through I ask her if I can bring her anything else. She says no, and I tell her I’ll be right back with the bill. She immediately sets her glass down and walks into the restaurant from the patio with me. I stop at the POS to print her check and notice that she is heading for the door.)

Me: “Ma’am? I’ve got your check right here.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m not going to pay. I have no money, and since you are so nice you can buy me dinner. Have a good night!”

Me: *to the hostess* “Lock the doors and call the police, now.” *to customer* “Lady, I’m not paying for your fifty-dollar meal. If you said you were hungry and had no money, I would have bought you a burger or something. I’m not paying for your steak and wine. The police are on their way.”

Customer:How dare you?! You will give me what I want! I’m not poor; I just don’t have my purse! I will pay for this tomorrow; I am in a hurry!”

(She then suddenly sprinted towards the doors. They normally swing out, and she would have gotten away, but I told the hostess to lock them. The lady ran full speed into the door and smashed her face against it, bloodying her nose. When the police came, we found out that she was a homeless lady who did this somewhere in town every couple of months. She even tried to press charges against me for kidnapping, claiming I locked her in the restaurant so that I could take her home with me at the end of the night. That was my last serving job.)

They’re About To Be Introduced To The Wonderful World Of Pizza

, , , , | Right | November 2, 2018

Customer: “I’d like a pepperoni pizza to go, please.”

Me: “What size pizza would you prefer, ma’am?”

Customer: “They come in different sizes?!”

Unfiltered Story #124653

, , , | Unfiltered | November 1, 2018

(Myself and my friend Nick were finishing some work we were doing and stopped off to get a bite to eat at this restaurant. It was early in the day and they did all day breakfast, so I ordered a big breakfast platter for myself. I offered to buy breakfast/lunch for Nick but he said he wasn’t feeling too well and just wanted a glass of milk. I’m in my early 40’s and Nick is in his early 20’s but could easily pass for 15 years old. I was complaining good-naturedly about my husband to Nick since they’re also friends. Because Nick wasn’t feeling well, he didn’t look especially cheerful or chatty.)

Me: Here. At least have a piece of toast? You should eat SOMETHING.

Nick: Oh, ok. *takes the toast and nibbles it tiredly*

(An older lady rushed up to us, glowering, and out of the blue, began fussing at us.)

Lady: I can’t believe you! Look at you! *points to me and my breakfast* You’re eating this BIIiIiIG breakfast while your young son only gets a piece of toast and milk!

(Nick and I look utterly confused and surprised)

Lady: And you just complain and complain to the poor boy about his father! That’s not right! He shouldn’t hear you put down his father like that! Look at how hurt he is! Hungry and hurt! You are so selfish! Poor thing is starving and you only order food for yourself!

Me: *in a VERY confused and shocked tone* Ma’am, Nick’s my FRIEND. He’s not my son, and he’s 22. We’re talking about my husband because Nick’s friends with him.

Nick: *Also confused and shocked* Yeah. Honestly. She’s not my mother. I live on my own. She offered to buy me breakfast but my stomach’s a bit queasy and I said I didn’t want any. I’m having a hard time even eating this toast which she shared with me.

(The lady got on a look of utter horror at her mistake. She started to back away like we were vampires intent on eating her and stammered at us.)

Lady: I.. I’m sorry! I’m old! Old people make mistakes! I couldn’t help it! I’m old! I make Old People mistakes!

(She then made sure her male companion had paid and fled the restaurant without looking back!)

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