(I am at a well-known 24-hour chain diner. I almost always get the chicken tenders there, so I know what they look and taste like, and I have been looking forward to having them again after a long time. I place my order, but when they come out, they don’t look anything like they normally do.)

Me: “Oh, I guess y’all changed the recipe?”

Waitress: “Oh, no, we ran out of chicken tenders, so [Other Waitress] went next door to the store and bought some more.”

Me: “…”

(They tasted good, but at the time, I was mostly disappointed that they didn’t just tell me they were out of chicken tenders so I could have ordered something else.)

(My coworkers and I all get along very well. We tend to talk even outside of work and hang out together. The following occurs while we’re all out for dinner together one evening, and one of my coworkers has been having a rough week.)

Me: “Well, just let me know if I can do anything. Even if you need to vent. I mean, I consider you a friend, so don’t feel like you’re overstepping bounds or anything.”

Coworker #1: “Aw, [My Name], thank you. It’s mutual. You’re like the cool sister I never knew I wanted.”

Coworker #2: “Ugh, save it for the funeral, you two.”

Me: “Don’t be jealous, [Coworker #2]; we love you, too.”

Coworker #1: “Kinda.”

Boss: “He’s just jealous because if you two are brother and sister, he’s like the annoying loud uncle who shows up at family gatherings just for the food.”

Coworker #2: “Hey! More like they’re the annoying, lame cousins your mother forces you to hang out with when they come visit for summer vacation.”

Coworker #1: “He still considers us family. That’s beautiful, dude.”

(I am a waitress at a busy restaurant. Note: all our menu items list the ingredients after the name of the dish and before the price. I serve poached eggs to a woman in her 50s.)

Customer: “Oh, ew, no! I don’t want that salmon!”

Me: “I’m sorry. What did you order?”

Customer: “I ordered poached eggs and toast, but not with salmon and asparagus!”

Me: “Okay, let me go and check your receipt.”

(I take her meal to the service counter and confirm that she paid a full $14 for our poached eggs, which lists salmon and asparagus in the ingredients. She has also ordered extra eggs. I have the kitchen remake her order: poached eggs on toast, extra eggs, and take her the $10 difference. A minute later she approaches me again.)

Customer: “I don’t know what’s going on with my food, but this isn’t right, either! I was meant to have bacon with this!”

Me: “I’m sorry; that wasn’t on the receipt, but I’ll go and get some for you.”

(I take out the extra bacon without charging any extra.)

Customer: “I didn’t want this many eggs!”

Me: “That’s okay; you haven’t been charged for them.”

Customer: “Well, I won’t be able to eat them all.”

Me: “Again, that’s fine; they’re on the house.”

Customer: “Did you want them back?”

Me: “No, no, that’s fine. You keep them.”

(While laughing later with my coworker who took the order, I confirmed that she had repeated the original order back three times!)

(A customer calls in, asking if we found his credit card a few days ago. Working with the manager, I see that we have it, and ask the customer for the name on the card to make sure it’s his. After confirming his name, I let him know we have it in our safe. Half an hour later, he shows up.)

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

Customer: “I called in earlier about a missing credit card.”

Me: “I remember that. Mind if I ask your name, just to confirm that it’s you?”

Customer: “It’s [Name], spelled [N-A-M-E]. Here’s my ID as well.”

Me: *checking his ID and seeing that it’s legit* “All right, I’ll go grab that for you real quick.”

(I go to the back, grab the manager to open the safe, get the card, and head back up.)

Me: “All right, here you go.”

Customer: “Thanks. I’d also like to place an order.”

Me: “Sure thing! Will that be for here or to go?”

Customer: “To go.”

Me: *after confirming his identity no less than three times* “Can I have a name for that?”

My partner and I go out to a local restaurant to celebrate our fifth anniversary. We are seated and our waiter takes our drink order. He looks young, possibly in his late teens. After around ten minutes, the drinks haven’t arrived, so when our waiter walks past, I ask him how the drinks are going. Instead of going to check on them, he takes out his notebook and takes our order again.

I get the impression he is new and very nervous. I don’t want to make him feel bad, so we just re-order the same drinks. Five minutes later, he returns with both orders of drinks. “Oh well,” I think. We were probably going to order more drinks later, anyway, so I don’t say anything.

He takes our food order without any issues and our meals arrive at a reasonable time. Well… my partner’s appetizer and main course both arrive together. That turns out to be a lucky accident, as the young waiter delivers my food to a table nearby. When they tell him that it isn’t what they ordered, he apologizes, takes the plates back to the kitchen, and returns with my meal in take-away containers.

I am a bit peeved, but as it is our anniversary, we both just want to relax and enjoy the night, and the food is actually really good. We decide to risk ordering dessert. My partner orders deep fried ice-cream, only for our young waiter to tell us that it’s not on the menu. I point it out to him on the menu, and point to other tables where we can see people eating it. He apologizes and said he honestly had no idea that it was on the menu.

After finishing our meal, we go to the front counter to pay the bill. It seems our waiter has never used or been trained in using a POS terminal or EFTPOS machine, and has to call other staff for help three times just to enter our items into the register.

My patience is just about expired, but I still feel sorry for the kid, as we’ve been able to hear his boss yelling at him every time he goes into the kitchen. I’ve been the new guy before and totally sympathize with him. I think to try and bolster his confidence and show him some support, so I say, “Don’t worry; it looks like you’re new here, and it seems tough now, but in a few weeks you’ll be a total professional.”

His reply left me feeling so awful. I’ve never forgotten what he said.

“I’m not new; I’ve worked here for six months.”