You Catch More Flies With Honey Than Vinegar, Part 3

After years of being unable to file her taxes (that’s worthy of a whole other story) my daughter finally got returns and a hefty check. She decided to treat me to dinner at a well-known steakhouse chain.

Our server was a trainee but was doing well. While waiting for our fried onion bloom, we got in our meal orders, and those were fine. The waiter checked on us.

Me: “It’s all delicious, thank you. But you might mention to the chef that my steak was medium, not medium rare.”

Horrors, right?

Waiter: “I can have them completely remake that if you like.”

Me: “Oh, no, please don’t. This is fine as medium.”

The waiter retreated, and I thought that was the end of it. But a few minutes later, a manager showed up.

Manager: “I understand that your steak was overcooked.”

Me: “No, not really overcooked. It’s a medium instead of medium rare.”

Manager: “We can make you a fresh one that’s medium rare.”

Me: “No, please don’t bother. I grew up eating steaks medium, so I’m perfectly happy with this.”

I was worried this was going to turn into the “Dirty Fork” sketch from “Monty Python’s Flying Circus”, but the manager seemed satisfied. Once again, I thought that was the end of it. But ten minutes later, the manager was back with our bill.

Manager: “Sorry about the steak. As an apology, we comped the onion bloom.”

My daughter and I looked at each other in surprise. We got a free expensive appetizer because…. we didn’t throw temper tantrums?

Related:
You Catch More Flies With Honey Than Vinegar, Part 2
You Catch More Flies With Honey Than Vinegar