That’s Just How I Egg-Roll

(My parents own two Chinese restaurants in succession beginning when I was born. Starting fifth grade, my parents allow me to help out by cleaning dishes, peeling veggies, and bringing food out. This particular event occurs during my seventh year. My mom is just beginning to train me on how to take orders from the phone. Because of this, the speaker on the phone was normally on, and we trained during the dead hours of three to four pm.)

Customer #1: “Hi, I’d like to place a pick-up order! I have a party that starts soon!”

Me: “Sure! May I have your first and last name, please?”

(Insert exchanges of information and orders of a lot of food. At this point, the order is finalized.)

Customer #1: “And I’d also like to add six free egg rolls to that order. I’m a close friend to the owner, and she does this all the time for me.”

(This was a red flag, since I knew who the close friends were thanks to my relationship with my mom. My mom nods for me to continue.)

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t have that offer.”

Customer #1: “Listen, I can tell you’re new. The manager and I have known each other for a long time and she wouldn’t be happy to know you’re treating me like this.”

Me: “Um… I’m sorry, we don’t have that offer.”

Customer #1: “Excuse me; I can get you fired for treating me so rudely! You’re probably some stupid twerp in high school that finally got their first job after years of being a lazy b****. Let me speak to the manager!”

(My mom motions for me to give her the phone. The customer proceeds to say obscenities about me and how I threatened her while she was ordering. She proceeds to screech how shitty my parents were for raising a shitty, disrespectful kid. In the meanwhile, the waitress notified my dad and he’s standing at the desk listening in as well.)

Customer #1: “And you need to fire that little b****! Having horrible f****** teenagers like her will ruin your restaurant’s reputation!”

Mom: “That’s my daughter.”

(There was a moment of silence on the phone line, and then the lady hung the phone up. Since the order was for a party, she still came to pick up her food. My father, a 6’2”, beefy, Asian man with a large collection of cleavers, stood at the door staring her down the whole time. She never came back.)