I work at a mom-and-pop counter-service restaurant that serves Sicilian street food. A woman comes into the restaurant right after our lunch rush. I decide to take her order since the person usually running the front is in the back doing dishes — my first mistake. She stands there just looking at the menu for upwards of fifteen minutes.
A different woman comes in, we cook her food, and she leaves before the first woman has said anything. She finally speaks!
Customer: “So, your Italian beef… What’s that like?”
I explain it to her as best I can, but she doesn’t know what Giardiniera is.
Me: “It’s pickled vegetables and peppers that brine in olive oil.”
Customer: “Oh, so it’s like a jam?”
Me: “No, they’re just chopped up.”
Customer: “Oh… So it’s like a spread?”
I grab a container of it to show her. She nods in understanding and continues looking at our very small menu.
Customer: “So, that sausage and peppers pasta… What’s that like?”
I explain it to her.
Customer: “Can I get cheese melted on that?”
Me: “No, ma’am. We don’t have a salamander [broiler] or any type of cheese that would go well melted on top of the pasta.”
Customer: “You can’t just put it in the microwave?”
Did this woman just tell me to microwave her food? What?
Me: “No, we don’t do that.”
Customer: “Okay. So… the sausage and peppers sandwich… What’s that like?”
This continues for SEVERAL of our menu items. “What’s that like?” followed by confusion.
Customer: “My friend got a sandwich that had ham and swiss cheese on it.”
We don’t serve that.
Me: “Oh, it may have been our sub sandwich; it has ham and provolone.”
Customer: “Is that on toast?”
Me: “No, it’s a sub sandwich.”
Customer: “Well, this one was on toast.”
Me: “That was probably our prosciutto and fig sandwich. It has prosciutto, mozzarella, fig jam, and fresh basil.”
Customer: “Oh… Prosciutto? What’s in that?”
Me: “It’s like a saltier ham.”
Customer: “Oh… Fig jam? Is that like a Fig Newton?”
Me: “Um, it’s kind of like what’s inside a Fig Newton?”
Customer: “Oh, okay… What’s that like?”
I give her some to taste.
Customer: “Okay… Um, your fresh basil… What’s in that?”
Me: *Pauses* “What do you mean?”
Customer: “Like, is there garlic?”
Me: *Pauses again* “No, it’s just… basil leaves. Like the plant.”
Customer: “Oh, okay. I’ll take that, then. Jam on the side. And I get a military discount.”
I start making her sandwich and she flags me over from the counter.
Customer: “I don’t want my bread burning! My sandwich is burning!”
Me: “Ma’am, it’s not burning. We have to press it on the griddle so that the cheese evenly cooks.”
She gets her food, but she has her mother on the phone to give an order on speakerphone. Her phone is busted all to crap and I can barely hear her.
Mother: “What bread is that sandwich on?”
Me: “It’s sourdough bread.”
Mother: “Oh… What’s that like?”
