(We are the couple from this story. My roommate and his girlfriend and I are going out on a double date again. Even though the waiter last time was really rude, we went to the same restaurant because the food was great. We ended up with the same waiter again.)

Waiter: *recognizing her* “Hello, again. What can I get started for you?”

Roommate: *to us* “Do we want beers or wine?”

Me/My Date/Girlfriend: *in unison* “Beer.”

(We ordered the beers, and the waiter leaves. The manager then approaches.)

Manager: “Hello again! So wonderful to see you back here. I’m glad that you didn’t let our staff members behavior last time keep you away. Did you want to be moved? I notice you’re in his section again.”

Girlfriend: *trying to be polite* “I think we’ll be fine, as long as he keeps his bull to himself.”

Manager: *beaming* “Of course. If you need anything, just let me know!”

(The meal goes fine, and everything is great. At the end, the waiter approaches the table and had this to say.)

Waiter: “Look, I… know I was more than a little rude last time you were here, and I wanted to apologize for what I said. No matter what I think about a couple, I shouldn’t make assumptions like that. And even if I did, I had no business actually saying anything about it, so… I’m sorry.”

(We go back once a month now, and actually request to be seated with this waiter.)

(After visiting an out-of-state friend, I’m taking the bus back to my home. On the way back, the bus stops in Tennessee, and I take the opportunity to grab a bite to eat at the bus stations diner. Going to the counter, I realize that the current customer is really going at it with the poor girl behind the register, who seems to have some sort of mental disability, and is having a very hard time understanding the woman’s order.)

Employee: “So, that was… cheese fries and—”

Customer: “Are you deaf?! I said a hot dog. A hot dog!”

Employee: “Yes, a hot dog, ma’am. Are you still wanting the cheese fries that you—”

Customer: “Why the f*** do you keep bringing up cheese fries! I never f***ing said anything about cheese fries!”

(The poor employee looks close to tears at this point, and people surrounding the counter are starting to stare.)

Employee: “Yes, ma’am, I understand. I’m sorry for my misunderstanding.”

Customer: *sighs* “Honestly, the standards of these places…”

(The customer steps to the side, muttering to herself, and I place my order. I speak calmly and make sure to apologize for how the previous customer has treated the employee. While I’m still waiting for my food, the annoyed customer’s meal comes up. Coming back to the counter, she takes one look and it’s obvious something is wrong.)

Customer: “Where are my godd*** cheese fries?! Are you really that stupid?!”

Employee: “Ma’am… I thought… I’ll get them for you ma’am.”

(While the customer is still waiting on the cheese fries that she clearly did not order, she turns to me to complain.)

Customer: “Can you believe these people? I’ve been on a bus for four hours and I can only be treated this well? Honestly, did you see that? Is she stupid?”

Me: “Yes ma’am, I did see that, and I don’t think she’s stupid. She treated you with more respect than I think you’ve treated anyone your entire life. You’ve been on a bus for four hours? She’s been working this job, dealing with people like you for a while now. I think we know who’s better off.”

(My food comes up, and I collect it.)

Me: *to the employee* “Thank you!”

Employee: *gives me a small smile*

(After this, the customer just stood there and stared, embarrassed. Thankfully, I didn’t see her again before left. And to top it off, I got a free drink!)

(I am serving at a very busy restaurant downtown with a very large patio. Outside the patio entrance, there is a big red stop sign that reads, “Please wait to be seated.” Two customers in their late twenties walk past the sign and rudely ignore the hostess’s calls to stop. They sit down at a dirty table. I walk up to the table and start stacking the empty glasses from previous guests.)

Me: “Hello—”

Customer: “REAL NICE! We came here for a nice lunch and have to sit at a dirty table?! Unbelievable!”

Me: “Sorry about that, folks. We’re really busy and the guests from this table just left less than a minute ago. Let me take care of that for—”

Customer: “Is that supposed to be some kind of excuse?! How hard is your job, really?! What a joke! You’d think you people would have some kind of system to address these things!”

Me: “Again, I’m very sorry. Normally, we clean a table before the next guest is seated by our hostess, but you seem to have seated yourself, so let me take care of that for—“

Customer: “Who?! That rude little girl that yelled at us on the way in?!”

(At this point, I’m holding a stack four or five pint glasses in one hand, a billfold from the last table in the other, and four menus under my arm, and I’m trying to keep table 44’s apps and drink order in my head.)

Me: “Ma’am, she didn’t yell at you. She plainly said, ‘Excuse me,’ to try and get your attention.”

Customer: *scoffs and YANKS the menus out from under my arm*

Me: “Ma’am, it’s not exactly polite walk past the sign, ignore the host, and be upset that YOU sat yourself at a dirty table.”

Customer: “Sign? What sign?!”

Me: “The big one at the front that says, ‘Please wait to be seated.'”

Customer: “Yeah, well, what if I told you I can’t read? Huh? Then what?!”

Me: “Well, that’s why it’s red and shaped like an octagon so you’ll associate it with ‘Stop.'”

Customer: *smugly* “Yeah?! Well, maybe I’m color blind, too!”

Me: “Well then, sweetie, it sounds like you’re gonna have a really tough time with our menu.”

(I walk away before she has a chance to respond. I eventually circle back to their table with two kiddie paper coloring menus and crayons. A few minutes later, they are gone but have scrawled a note on the back of the kiddie menu. This is exactly what it says:)

Customer’s Note: “YOUR A A**HOLL WERER NEVER COMMING BACK AGAN”

(It was also followed by a very crude scribble that a coworker and I later concluded had to be an attempt to draw male genitalia.)

This story is part of our Crayon Roundup!

Read the next Crayon Roundup story!

Read the Crayon Roundup!

(I work as a waitress in a small restaurant where the owner is the cook. We see a van pull in, so the owner/cook goes to the kitchen to get things ready. However, after several minutes, no one comes inside so the owner comes back out.)

Owner: “I guess they’re meeting someone.”

Me: “Yeah… oh, wait. There’s a kid.”

(I watch from behind the register as a young boy, probably 5 years old, walks in front of their van and just stands there, facing the car. I look away for a second to see if another has pulled in and when I look back I see the boy’s bare butt.)

Me: “What is he doing? Changing clothes?”

Owner: “No, I think he’s flashing us.”

Me: “What?!” *I stand on my tippy toes to see more clearly* “Oh no! No!”

Owner: “What? What’s he doing?”

Me: “He’s PEEING on the hood of their car!”

(Sure enough, instead of bring their kid inside to use the bathroom before they ordered food, the parents must have figured their hood was good enough. I’d hate to be their mechanic!)

(I am a customer at a fast food restaurant. It’s a small location and a bit crowded.)

Worker #1: “273!”

(I try to push through the crowd to gather my order. I’m almost there when another worker pushes another tray onto the counter, pushing some of the unclaimed orders around and knocking mine off the counter. He looks at the ruined food, then up at me with a reassuring stare.)

Worker #2:  “We can rebuild it. We have the technology.”