The Sauce Of Her Entitlement

(10 hours into my shift, an entitled, belligerent customer begins barking out orders. After an arduous ordering process, her meal arrives.)

Customer: “WHAT is THIS?”

Me: “That’s the broiled seafood platter you ordered, miss. May I provide any other sides or sauces to complement your meal?”

Customer: “What IS this?”

Me: “Oh, that small cup of cocktail sauce? We provide cocktail sauce with all of our shrimp meals, as it is commonly requested.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t LIKE cocktail sauce! I won’t eat it!”

Me: “Not a problem; you’re under no obligation to do so!”

Customer: “I SAID that I don’t LIKE it! TAKE IT OFF MY PLATE!”

(Although startled, I comply.)

Customer: “Bring me something else!”

Me: “Would you like drawn butter?”

Customer: “I want shrimp sauce!”

Me: “Cocktail sauce is the condiment we most commonly pair with our shrimp, but I’d be happy to bring you samples of our remoulade, tartar, hot sauce, Asian sauce—”

Customer: “ASIAN sauce? What is that?”

Me: “It’s similar to sweet and sour sauce.”

Customer: “Is it spicy?”

Me: “Mostly, it’s sweet and sour. I don’t find it spicy at all, but I can’t predict how it will taste to you.”

Customer: “Ugh, you’re no help! Fetch me the sauce your executive chef recommends! Unlike you, he’ll know!”

(Upon recommendation, I offer the Asian sauce.)

Customer: “UGH! This is spicy! You lied to me!”

Me: “I apologize; I did not intend to mislead you. Would you like to try another sauce?”

Customer: “I don’t understand why you won’t just bring me shrimp sauce! That’s what I want! You aren’t very good at this, are you?”

Me: “I’m sorry; the only ‘shrimp sauce’ we carry is cocktail sauce.”

Customer: “Wait, cocktail sauce? That sounds about right. Bring that out immediately!”

(The woman happily devours her cocktail sauce, casting me death stares all the while.)