I’m waiting tables on Valentine’s Day at a mid-range restaurant. Not fancy, but not too shabby, think white tablecloths, candles, prix fixe specials, that kind of thing.
A couple gets seated in my section. The guy is overdressed for the place. The woman seems pleasant, if a little reserved. I drop menus and introduce myself.
Me: “Hi folks, I’ll be taking care of you tonight—”
Customer: “—We’re celebrating Valentine’s Day. What do you do special for that?”
Me: “We have the Valentine’s special menu here, complimentary bread, and—”
Customer: “—Okay, but can you dim the lights more at our table?”
Me: “Sorry, the lighting’s set for the whole dining room.”
He frowns, but it doesn’t last long before he asks:
Customer: “Can you put on some romantic music? Like… slow jazz?”
Me: “We don’t control the music, sir.”
Later:
Customer: “Can you bring the food out together, like… with some flair? Maybe announce it?”
Me: “I’ll bring the food out when it’s ready. I can, of course, explain what each item is when I bring it to the table, so you know which item is what you ordered.”
He sighs loudly and turns to his date.
Customer: “They’re usually more accommodating at nice places.”
She gives a tight smile but doesn’t say anything.
Customer: “Can the steak be cut into a heart shape?”
Me: “…The steaks are pre-cut.”
Customer: “Can you write ‘Be Mine’ in sauce on the plate?”
Me: “The sauce is a bit too tricky to write words with. They might be able to do a heart with that, though?”
Customer: “Fine, whatever. I suppose it’ll have to do. Do you have someone here selling roses? Or like, a resident photographer?”
Me: “…No.”
Customer: “Okay, you take our picture. I want one from both sides of the table, from above, and maybe, like, go far away and take a few ‘candids’ of us with like, some romantic candles. Oh, do you have candles?”
Me: “…I can take a couple of pictures, but as you see, we’re running a full house tonight as it’s Valentine’s, and everyone here is celebrating it too.”
Customer: “Look, can you get someone more important or something? I don’t think you get how this whole Valentine’s thing is supposed to work.”
I excuse myself and get my manager, who has already been watching from the bar with… an expression. My manager walks over.
Manager: “Sir, is there a problem?”
Customer: “Yeah. We’re just not getting the Valentine’s experience we expected.”
Manager: “Let me explain how this works. You order food. We bring the food. You eat the food. You pay for the food. We all say thank you and goodnight. That’s it. That’s how restaurants work.”
The guy opens his mouth. My manager doesn’t stop.
Manager: “What you’re looking for is a butler or a servant. But since you’re dining here and you called ahead to make sure your coupons were still good on Valentine’s Day, I don’t think you can afford one.”
Dead. Silence. The guy turns bright red and turns to his date.
Customer: “I mean, coupons don’t mean I’m poor or anything.”
The woman finally speaks.
Woman: “I don’t care if you have money or not. But the fact that you care this much about it, and the way you’ve treated these people tonight, tells me this isn’t going to work.”
She closes her menu.
Woman: “The food looks good, so I’ll pay for what I order and take it to go. I’ll be tipping 25%.”
She looks directly at him.
Woman: “I expect you to do it too.”
She smiles at me apologetically, orders from the bar, and tips as she said she would. The guy sat there alone, looking at her the whole time, but unable to do anything out of… I don’t know, shame, I guess?
Nothing wrong with not being able to afford the Ritz, dude, but don’t expect us to wait on your every whim for a $34.99 set three-course meal in a chain restaurant off the freeway…
