An individual walks into brunch and orders a plate of smoked salmon. Served on the side is a ramekin of cream cheese, the only dairy in this dish.
I then go to the kitchen to get coffee for another table. My attention is drawn to the kitchen by the smoked salmon lady following me around. The moment I turn around and see her, I ask, “Is there anything you need?”
She says, “I forgot I don’t eat dairy, so can I order buttermilk pancakes?”I ask, perplexed by what I just heard, “The buttermilk pancakes? The pancakes include dairy.” “Well, as long as it isn’t a lot, it is acceptable.” It’s like the main ingredient, lady!
Do people not pay attention to the foolishness that they say?
Story Credit: Reddit/honestlywhytho
On my first day at the pizza restaurant, I was nervous. This place was constantly packed. Since I had previously worked at quiet burger shops or Italian restaurants, it’s actually where I learned how to be a decent waiter. Even though everything was moving quickly, I was doing surprisingly well. I had roughly ten tables, whereas before, I only had three to four tables.
I’ll never forget this pair that entered the restaurant and sat at table 24. The couple was older. They were the kind of people who are overdressed for a pizza restaurant and had grey hair. I will admit that despite feeling frazzled from starting a new job, I did provide them with exceptional service. I was in the zone and felt terrific managing all of my tables, that is until I made a mistake.
To finish off his meal, the man at table 24 gave me his card. I’m SO BUSY that, if I had a wedgie, I didn’t even have time to pick it up. I swipe his card at the computer. I know it might be incredibly aggravating, but I completely neglected to print the itemized receipt. There was every reason for the man at table 24 to be furious. However, he started telling me LOUDLY how terrible I am at my work in a small room with a deep and firm tone instead of asking me to get the itemized receipt.
He claimed it was understandable that I only made it as far in life as working at a pizza restaurant. He persisted in making these HORRIBLE remarks and, despite my attempts to leave, wouldn’t let me. After wasting time getting shouted at by this guy, all of my other tables just witnessed me getting ripped a new one, and I’m now in the weeds. However, at some point, the restaurant’s owner must have entered.
He approached the table when he heard the other man screaming at me and did the most incredible thing I’d ever seen. Owner: “Excuse me, sir. I am the owner of this establishment,” he says to the man at table 24. Since I don’t know what the issue is, I really don’t care. I do care that you keep making fun of my waiter, though. I’m going to ask you to leave and not return back to my restaurant, along with your wife.”
“Fine, but you’ll be losing our business,” said the man at table 24. “I honestly don’t care, and I don’t want people like you at my restaurant anyhow,” the owner said. I had never seen a response that was so cool. The owner then stayed put and awaited their departure. The owner approached me after they had gone. “Screw those folks,” he ordered. ” You’re doing a fantastic job, and if you hadn’t shown potential, I wouldn’t have employed you. I want you to tell anyone else who speaks to you in that manner to **** off and go. I don’t want their cash.”
Story Credit: Reddit/aanon5402
I’m sure we’ve all received those calls. The ones from clients who ordered takeout but something was wrong. They can be as diverse as the disgruntled customer who mistakenly ordered chicken when she meant to get steak and simply wants it to be compensated the next time she visits or the irate customer who discovered an onion in his taco and is preparing to drive to the store to yell at the manager and demand that everyone be fired.
When you handle these calls, it can be a little nerve-racking. When one of these phone calls comes in, my store’s protocol is to send out management right away, but I think I can handle these customers better than my managers. I am permitted to answer these calls because all of my managers are aware of this. Then I received a call that truly tested all of my abilities.
We had a burrito special that night, so it was a busy Thursday, and the store was packed. Additionally, we have Uber Eats, which results in Uber drivers arriving and departing with takeaway orders. If you are familiar with Uber Eats, you may know that consumers occasionally make comments to request specific modifications to a specific order.
We received an Uber order after we had settled down a bit, and the man asked us to add napkins and draw a smiling face on anything to make him a little happier tonight. Naturally, when I showed the servers, we all freaked out and decided to write him a ton of notes to make his evening more enjoyable.
In the end, we created almost 50 notes, which included jokes, illustrations, and short stories (we also added an extra side of queso). Being able to help someone made me feel incredibly good. One of the other servers came to get me later that evening as I was about to clock out and said, “There’s a man on the phone who wants to speak to a manager about something, but they’re all busy, so can you take this?”
Of course, I think, “Oh, no, not now. I don’t want to have to deal with this.” I agree grudgingly and inquire about how I may assist. He continues by saying that he was the one who ordered the Uber and that he wanted to call to express his gratitude after receiving all of the notes. In a split second, it turned from being heartwarming to being tragic.
On the phone, he began to sob. I was at a loss for words, so I simply told him that we enjoyed helping him and hoped to do so in the future. He admitted to me that he had not been able to leave his residence in years but that he wished he could enter the restaurant. He indulged in a weekly takeout order from our restaurant.
At this time, I started to cry, so I requested him to hold on for a moment. He was placed on speakerphone after I called all of the servers. All the girls responded, “Have a wonderful night,” when I said, “Hello, we all just wanted to say have a great night.” Cheers to your burrito! “Next week is going to be so much fun!” After everyone had finished speaking, I turned off the speakerphone.
I assured him that he was now more than just a valuable client—he was also a friend. Once more thanking him, I hung up. I’m currently sobbing as I sit in my car, thinking about this stranger and hoping we helped him.
Story Credit: Reddit/Philosopheraven
At the age of 30, I work a full-time job as a waitress while attending school full-time to earn my Ph.D. I’ve been serving the best people at this Greek restaurant for about 15 years. At almost 16, I began bussing; today, I manage. Around six o’clock one evening a few months back, one of our regulars—I’ll call him Andy—enters the shop.
Andy is a mattress salesman who regularly stops by for lunch. He’s a great man, and at around 400 pounds, he’s a large guy. Anyhow, Andy arrives with a woman after work. Even though she is about 10 or so years older than him, it is clear that they are dating. So we make a big deal out of him. We reserve him our best table through the owner’s wife, and we also provide them with a complimentary glass of champagne.
She orders a vegetarian plate, while he orders our meat platter. I hear her gasp as they are both eating. Andy has his hands covering his throat and his face was blue. While the owner dials 911, I approach and administer the Heimlich maneuver. When his date hits me with her purse, confusion fills me “You’re harming him, I took first aid, and that’s wrong!”
She is yelling directly at me. She continues to scream as the owner takes her away from me while he is still choking. Andy is able to breathe after his steak fragment flies away. The paramedics had arrived by this point, and, get this, his date is telling them that I hurt him. Contrarily, she was told by the paramedics that I actually saved his life.
They ultimately decide to admit Andy because he was somewhat wheezing. She gives me a distasteful glare and leaves after them. Two days later, Andy brings his coworker in for lunch and repeatedly thanked me. Then he informs me that was their first and only date. Yesterday, he brought in his most recent date. She enjoyed the food, and most importantly, she is pleasant.
Story Credit: Reddit/couldbeworse
My previous boss was a real “working for the weekend” kind who under no circumstances went above and beyond for us or the clients. She would always force us to throw out a homeless man who would camp out in our back alley because customers could see him from the main door (since a lot of heat comes off a vent back there). This was one of the hardest things about her.
We now have a new manager because she has left. One of the workers said, “Hey, that guy’s back,” during the first week of the new manager’s employment. We related the entire tale to the new manager when she remarked, “This guy here often?” She inquired about our interactions with him, and we replied that they had been very amicable given the circumstances.
She exits, shakes his hand, and offers him a trial position cleaning dishes. He was helped to clean up by one of the busboys, and she immediately put him to work. He did a fantastic job, earned decent, honest money, and got an employee’s supper. She informed him that he was welcome to return to work any night of the week and that if he was reliable, she would strive to get him hired.
He began working permanently today, two weeks after that!
Story Credit: Reddit/tamiraisredditing
I’m a bartender. As soon as this girl enters my bar, I approach her as usual and place a napkin in front of her. I then say, “Hey! What’s up? Can I get you anything today? “Cosmo, she responds.” I reply, “Okay, coming right up—by the way, that’s a pretty cool dress.” It resembled one of Kim Kardashian’s pricey, skin-tight outfits.
Additionally, it had metal panels that ran through it and lighted up when she moved; I don’t know, I just mentioned it since it was cool. It was a hurried, spontaneous remark. Not even a little bit of flirting with her. I was quite shocked by her response. She gives me an “ew” look and says, “One. I am dating someone. Two. I don’t go out with gay males. Three, grab my drink quickly before I decide that you don’t get to work here.”
I stop abruptly, a little taken aback. My mind is rapidly filled with a barrage of ideas. Like, was she kidding…? Would someone find that funny? Nope. The witch was being SO serious. My Turn: “In what universe do you believe you can enter a bar, disrespect the bartender, and then actually anticipate him to serve you drinks????” Silence. ” Witch, you’re dismissed, I say.” However, things didn’t end there.
The following day, when this girl returns with her boyfriend, she gestures toward me as if to indicate, “That’s him.” “Yo, I heard you insulted my girl,” he says. ” Do you know what happens when guys speak to my girl in that way”? One of those jerk males who want to put on a macho act for his girl is here, ugh. The dumbest of the dumb are these individuals.
“Do you know what actually happened?” I ask. ” I don’t care what happened,” he asserts. “You were rude to my girl.” He really hopped over the bar at this point, and I followed suit to HIS side. Then this person leaped BACK over the bar, landing on the side of the patrons, where one of the bouncers then tackled him till he was on the ground.
I would remark, “Yeah—that was a nasty thing to say,” if my partner had behaved in that manner toward a bartender and they became upset. God, I hope they don’t bring children into this world.
Story Credit: Reddit/AliensAreDemons
I work as a bartender at a fine dining establishment, and if it gets busy during my lunch shift, I assist the waiter in taking tables. One afternoon, I tried to take an empty appetizer dish away without asking, and the person at the next table made me cry and said I was disrespectful and didn’t know how to do my job. They were having a talk while waiting for their main course.
Everyone just turned around and stared as they yelled at me. Every time I passed by these jerks, I could hear them talking about me to the other customers I had on the floor. They ran up a bill of almost $200 and didn’t leave a tip. I’m not sure whether they made up an issue to be furious about in order to avoid leaving a tip on such a sizable check, but whatever.
I simply went to the bar, which is outside the main eating area and in the front of the establishment, and requested my food runner to look after them so I wouldn’t have to deal with them any longer. I invited an elderly man to my pub later that afternoon. Although I was aware that he was a regular and that he lived close by, we had never actually chatted because he preferred to eat in the dining room rather than at the bar.
When he sat down, he was wearing headphones, so he mostly ignored my hello, and I thought, “Oh, here we go again.” Never in my life have I been so mistaken. He quickly apologized and said he simply needed some cold water and a glass of my favorite red, which we had given, because he was in a rush. As I opened a new bottle, I briefly discussed the decision with him.
I am now pursuing certification as a sommelier, so I have some experience. I gave it to him after that. He immediately requested the check. I simply charged him $14 for the glass, gave him the ticket after I had his card processed, and then left to check on my other table. He handed me some cash wrapped in his receipt even though his glass was empty when I returned a few minutes later. The next thing he said nearly brought a tear to my eye.
I hope this is enough,” he said. You seemed to be having a horrible day when I passed you earlier. Your lunch shift will soon be done soon hopefully, so this glass is on me. He had left me two $20 bills when I opened the receipt. Although I’ve heard of individuals taking such good care of their servers, I’ve never really experienced it.
I was so upset with the way my first table treated me that after the regular left my bar, I definitely started crying again. Just a friendly reminder that even the most ordinary clients occasionally have your back. I was feeling less than human after my first table, but this guy helped me remember why I do what I do and why I enjoy it.
Story Credit: Reddit/whotookthesampo
I served a table of 14 last night. They were all horrible people—the rudest individuals I had ever encountered. The monarchy that rules Worthless Jerk Land. One man enters and places a pint order. “I want you to have a pint for me every time you come to the table,” he says. I went out and then came back because I assumed he was probably just kidding.
“Where is my pint?” he asks. “Did you forget what I told you only a few moments ago? Wow”. I responded, “Oh! I truly apologize; it won’t occur again.” As a result, for the following two hours, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I walked over to the table and poured a pint. The beverages started to accumulate after approximately 45 minutes. I just never stopped.
He remained silent each time I set a drink down. I would have stopped if he had acknowledged my presence and told me to. He remained silent. I briefly felt horrible after starting to feel that way. Afterward, he yelled at me like a dog to speed up the meal delivery. HE WANTED THAT EXACTLY. I just want to say it again. He requested it.
I was also observing him drink. I would have stopped if his actions or alcohol consumption had changed at any moment. He exited in the same manner as he entered. as a jerk. Anyway, things deteriorated to the point that the pints were surrounding his seating area. Glasses, glasses, and more glasses. It was amazing. I mix my own drinks at my job because there isn’t a conventional bar there; instead, there is a big server station.
Even one that I set down was attempted to be taken by a buddy of King Doucherbottom, but I grabbed it. I then apologized and informed him that it was his friend’s drink. If you like, I’d be pleased to get one for you. To cut a long story short, he ended up purchasing 25 beverages at a cost of $8 each, with a 20% required auto-gratuity. Maybe he drank four.
Never before in my life have I felt better. People, it doesn’t pay to be a cocky jerk! The pinnacle of my seven years of service was this. I work somewhere where some people treat me like I’m a piece of stew meat, so I’ve learned how to play the game to go ahead. I enjoy my work and the individuals I meet, but I frequently experience being stepped on. It’s wonderful to succeed once in a while.
There was no bartender present. Even though it is unlawful, I don’t regret doing it. After he went, the bussers continued to enjoy their drinks undisturbed. Bringing them back in an ice-filled bus tub made me feel wonderful. It reminded me of children’s joy on Christmas morning. My manager was upset when he saw the bill, but there have been no complaints about anything we might be held responsible for yet! And the conclusion had a delightful twist.
They divided the bill into seven equal portions without even looking at the charges. The cards went on top of the bill that I had just placed. Their entire bill, including everything, came to almost $1,200. Where I work, this is unusual for a table of 14, but not unexpected. Before tipping out, I made about $240. Overall, it was a great evening for me.
Story Credit: Reddit/purplebikeshorts
So, at my place of employment, customers have the opportunity to pre-order food using their phones because, I suppose, everyone wants everything now quickly. But occasionally people call for the food and then show up five seconds later as if they had ordered from the parking lot, so the system is kind of broken. Therefore, it won’t be prepared just yet.
Anyway, this lady actually did that, but thankfully it was only a very modest order, so I could go to work on it right away. She approached and I think I took about 30 seconds too long; as a result, she started shouting “HELLLLLLOOOO!” three or four times. I approach her, hand her the item, and smile at her. She then begins to scream at me as if I were her young child.
She shouts something along the lines of, “NEXT TIME DO YOUR JOB AND HAVE IT READY.” I’m usually the nicest guy if you’re polite to me, so this was out of character for me, but I just sort of stared her way and mumbled, “Screw off,” out of exhaustion. She became enraged and shouted harder.
“I’M SORRY!? WHAT’S YOUR NAME?” I gave her a fake one by lying to her. She instructed me to get a manager. I was furious at this point and went to get the manager. I gave a brief explanation of what had occurred, and as soon as my manager arrived, the lady became hostile to her, saying things like, “Oh, he WILL be fired. I can make that promise.”
All the managers and owners responded after she made a call to corporate. The owner was just angry that I lied about my identity when we spoke on the phone. I believe I still have the job because the owner kept repeating things like, “In the future, this is how you handle it.” She did say that she HAS to apologize to the woman over the phone.
Anyhow, even if I get fired, it was totally worth it. The most enjoyable thing I did all year was tell this woman to shut up.
Story Credit: Reddit/theoffrepeater
I had planned a lunch date with a guy from school on my day off, but due to the terrible traffic, he was running late. I was perusing the menu while seated at my table. It wasn’t the restaurant I work at, the cuisine wasn’t the same, and it wasn’t even close to the restaurant I work at in terms of location. My menu was taken out of my hands by a woman who approached me.
“Why are you just sitting around here? It’s been 45 minutes since we last received service.” That was not true. They arrived ten minutes earlier than I did and had already ordered drinks. “Ma’am, I’m not employed here.” At this time, I didn’t recognize her.” You served me only last week, don’t you remember? You’re a waitress, so don’t lie to me.”
She came into my restaurant, I think because she was upset that the food wasn’t prepared with hot sauce and that it was too spicy. I inform her that I work as a waiter in a neighborhood Mexican restaurant, not a “local burger bar.” “Same difference,” she exclaims. “You work as a server. Grab a pen and paper and write down our order.”
“However, I’m not a waitress here. Just like you, I’m attempting to enjoy my lunch. I have no official employment status here.” She responds, “But you’re a skilled waitress, and this restaurant is obviously behind schedule. Don’t you people swear something or take an oath?” Well, this woman asked for it. In my capacity as a server, I hardly ever get to confront this level of ignorance because 99.9% of the time it takes place while I’m actually at work.
I, therefore, approached their table carrying a pen and a piece of paper from my bag. I noted each of their orders. I advised the people to be patient and wait for 45 minutes. Even the ketchup they requested was brought over (just a quick grab from another table), and after that, I left. My date agreed to meet me a few blocks away after I texted him. The woman completely unloaded on the manager of the restaurant I was dining at the following day and contacted my employer at my actual restaurant.
I went back the following day to apologize and check on the situation because I felt horrible about the difficult situation I’d put the actual employees in. Fortunately, they were cool about it, and we laughed a lot about it. “We were so baffled,” they said, “since she described the server in such exact detail, but nobody even close to that works here, so we believed she had gone insane.”
My employer recognized me from her description, informed them he takes this seriously and enquired as to what day it happened. When they explained, he responded, “You must be mistaken, as that server has the day off, and she wasn’t here.” My amiable boss finally gave up after some heated crying and screaming at her about how I still have to “represent the restaurant everywhere I go.”
I’ll just have to cross my fingers that she doesn’t visit my actual restaurant now!
Story Credit: Reddit/tamiraisredditing
I’ve been a server at various points throughout my life since I was 16, and I am 29 now. Usually, I would serve or hostess as a part-time job, but currently, my only job is being a server. Recently, I had three guys come in who looked about my age. When they sat down, I greeted them and then asked them how many shots they were going to be buying tonight.
They were fairly loud and seemed in a good mood, and I said this mostly to be funny. The first couple of guys told me they didn’t want shots, but they would be ordering pints. Then the last guy told me he would need a few shots if I was going to be his server. I chuckled, since I thought we were joking, and went and got their drinks.
They ordered their food, a few more drinks, there weren’t any major issues, and they said it would all be one check tonight. I went to pick up their credit card receipt, and there was 0.00 in the tip line. Ok, maybe they’ll leave cash—no big deal. But as I am thanking them for coming in, one of the guys interrupts me. His words shook me to my core.
He tells me that I probably noticed he didn’t tip me. I am honestly kind of embarrassed to be having this conversation, and I was flustered, so I just replied with something like “Oh, that’s okay, have a nice night”. He then proceeded to tell me; “I didn’t really feel like shelling out an extra 20 bucks for you, because no offense, but you could step it up a bit. All the other waitresses in here are very cute and earn their tips, try putting on more makeup, or going to a gym. I am just being honest with you. If a guy wanted to screw you, he’d tip you better”.
I was so mortified I didn’t even say anything. I could feel my face turning red, while every guy at that table stared at me. Nobody said anything. I work very hard, and I take so much pride in my work. I try to look nice and put together every night, because it can speak to how much pride you do take in your job. I am friendly and outgoing, because I love working with people and I love my job.
I wish I would’ve had something to say back to him, but I just walked away instead. I’ve worked double shifts all week and closed each night. I’ve been stiffed a couple of times almost every day this week, but I don’t take it personally and I try to still always hold my head up. Even so, that really hurt. For what it’s worth, though, I don’t think what he said holds any true merit.
I love and accept myself wholeheartedly. It was more so the fact he said it at all, his entitlement, and to be reduced to whether or not he wants to sleep with me to determine my worth. This happened at the tail end of my night. I was the only server on the floor, and the only other female on staff with me tonight was the bartender, who I’ve never really confided in and or gotten along very well with.
We’re just co-workers, that’s it. I also didn’t tell my manager, because my manager is a guy. He is mostly friendly, but honestly, my manager is creepy too. Lots of unwanted hugs and shoulder touching. Comments and questions asking me if “I have a man, or if I’d ever be willing to be a stepmom”—he has four kids with his ex-wife.
Like I said, it’s been a long week. I worked doubles every day, and closed every night. Two of those nights I was the only server on for hours because so many other servers called out. I know I am better than he is, and that I am doing just fine, it’s just exhausting existing as a woman sometimes, and there’s not enough places you get to “just be”.
Story Credit: Reddit/UnsupportedDevice
So last night was probably the busiest night we’ve had for the last week. I’m a waitress at an upscale steakhouse restaurant. The hostesses up front put us at an hour-long wait for walk-ins because of so many booked reservations, which is the usual protocol from the general manager. Well, this particular couple had me FUMING beyond belief.
The front lobby is packed with guests waiting for a table while reservations are seated as soon as possible. The hostesses have a system on an iPad to let all the managers know which guest is seated where, how long they’ve stayed, etc. I’m bussing a table at my section when I overhear one of the hostesses try to speak to a pair of people at my section a booth over.
This couple walked into the restaurant, saw the number of people waiting for a table, and decided to seat themselves with NO reservation. They also sat at a dirty table, and here I’m thinking, “Are these people for real?” This is what I got between the hostess and the older man sitting down with his wife: “Excuse me, sir? You didn’t come up to the host stand in order for us to find out what reservation you had?”
“We don’t have reservations. Someone needs to clean this up”. Here, he points to the messy table. “I’m sorry sir, but if you don’t have a reservation the wait is going to be an hour long. Someone has already requested this booth by the fireplace and they need to be seated”. “We don’t care about reservations. We’re hungry and we’re going to eat. Get someone to clean our table! I’m not asking a third time!”
After that failure, the hostess looked at me, and she was pretty shaken up. She had never dealt with any guests THAT rude and upfront before, so it was understandable. With my Latina blood boiling, I went over to the jerks and gave them a piece of my mind. “This is my section, and after hearing that conversation, you both have no right to be served. There’s a family waiting for this table, and I’m going to ask you to leave. Unless you want me to get a manager to escort you out”.
The couple squawked at me, demanding I get them drinks, while I went straight to my manager, who saw what had already happened with the hostess. They were escorted out and were told they weren’t welcome back. Ever. This is the type of stuff I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. If you have to wait an hour-long for a table like everyone else, then you do it. If not, go to another restaurant.
Story Credit: Reddit/cammm_ebc
I waited tables during college, and this is one of the best memories I have of my manager handling a rude guest. One of my tables was a gay couple at a booth. They were holding hands across the table basically the whole time they were at the restaurant. At one point, a lady with two small children flags me down from across the dining room.
Her table wasn’t in my section so I assumed she just wanted me to go find her server. I go over and ask her what I can do for her, and she says, “What the HECK is wrong with you? How can you possibly allow THEM in here? I’ve been coming here for 20 years and I’m appalled that they’d let a couple of those types eat here. Do me a favor and move those queers to a different table so my kids don’t have to see that sort of disgusting behavior”.
Literally, all they were doing was holding hands. Get over yourself lady. I wanted to tell her off for being such an intolerant witch, but instead just said, “One moment ma’am and I’ll get a manager for you”. I went and told my manager what was going on and he promptly went over to her table and told her that if she had an issue with other guests minding their own business and eating their food, then maybe she’d be better off not eating out at all.
She grabbed her kids and left without ordering. I always had a ton of respect for him for not putting up with horrible people’s issues.
Story Credit: Reddit/ScaryTerry22
I am no longer a server, but I was one all through college. I worked at a franchise of a chain of 24-hour restaurants that is notorious for cheap breakfasts and bad service. A big yellow sign with red letters. I took great pride in my job and how I treated my customers. In all honesty, if I could find a server job that offered good insurance and steady tips, I would consider going back to it.
I really, truly loved waiting tables and making people’s lives a little more pleasant, at least while they were in my section. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. I had several “regulars” that always sat in my section, but there were other servers who had their regulars as well. One of them was a really pleasant, jovial man…and his horrible, nasty wife.
She was the kind of woman who got off on being a witch and making other people’s lives miserable. One particular day, I had to cover some tables in a different server’s section because a server called in sick. I was warned about this couple when they came in, but had never waited on them before, so I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect.
I was told that she had a habit of complaining endlessly about everything, demanding to speak to the manager every time they came in, and berating the servers and cooks at every turn. The husband (who often came in by himself) was the opposite—friendly, good-natured, well-liked. As soon as they were seated, before I could even get their drink orders, the husband got up from the booth and walked outside for a few minutes, leaving me alone with the wife.
I put on my best smiley, cheerful face and greeted her. She refused to make eye contact with me and instead scowled and snarled, “You would think that, as much money as we spend here, you people would know what we like to drink! Why do we have to keep going through this? I want ICED TEA, NO LEMON!!” She didn’t tell me what the husband wanted, and I didn’t ask.
I was just so taken aback by the anger straight out of the gate that I just turned on my heels and walked away. I poured her an iced tea—NO LEMON!!—and brought it back to her. Before I could even set it down, she snapped, “I already know what I want to eat, and we’re in a HURRY”. (Bear in mind that the husband is still outside).
I took her order, still trying to be pleasant, and before I could walk away, she snarled, “and the last time you people brought the food out, it was COLD!! I do NOT want cold food! And I want EXTRA CHEESE on my scrambled eggs!! and SALSA!!” Her voice seemed to drip with more and more anger with every word she spat out.
As I was ringing up the order, I thought of a thousand things I wanted to do, then I hit upon an idea. Instead of getting back at her, I was going to not only go out of my way to make her meal as perfect and delicious as possible, but I was going to embarrass her as well. I made sure everything was perfect…piping hot, lots and lots of cheese on the eggs, fresh salsa warmed up to room temperature.
By the time the meal was ready, the husband had returned to the table and was happily chatting with one of the servers. I mustered up my best scared/sad face as I brought out the food to her. As I sat it down, I started to tear up, just a little, and expressed in gushing, flowery terms how sorry I was for how badly she was treated the last time she was here, and how hard I worked to make sure the food was absolutely 100% according to her specifications.
I said that I felt SO BAD for how she was treated that I was going to pay for her meal out of my tips and how I hoped that she would be willing to accept my apology on behalf of the whole restaurant for her miserable experience. I really laid it on as thickly and sweetly as I could. Her husband, who was happy and smiling and cheerful just seconds ago, stared her down with a sick, horrid look.
His face turned bright red. She was MORTIFIED, her face turning equally red…she hung her head and said, “Ummm…okay…”. I asked her if everything was to her satisfaction this time, and if it wasn’t, I would rectify it immediately. She stared at her plate, pushed it around a bit, and said, “Ummmm…yeah…”. The husband is staring her down now, clenching his jaw.
He politely ordered his meal and as I was walking away, I heard him hiss at her, “What did you say to her? What did you DO??” She was silent and sulking for the rest of the meal, and he was polite but not overly chatty. When they were finished, she stormed out before he even left the table, head hung. He apologized profusely to me for how she had acted and left a generous tip on top of paying the tab.
To the best of my recollection, she never acted like a witch to any of us ever again.
Story Credit: Reddit/bad_thrower
I waited tables and tended bar for years before switching to my current career. One day, this table comes in, eats, drinks, pays cash. I tell them to have a great day and walk away. While taking a drink order at a new table, I notice the lady standing there angrily, and I make eye contact with her husband and he looks really embarrassed.
I finish taking the drink order and go over to them. “Yes? Is there a problem?” She tells me I gave her the wrong change and was really nasty about it. I can’t remember exactly what it was, but I had intended to round up to avoid pennies. You heard me right…pennies. Like, their change was supposed to be $3.78 and I intended to give them $3.80.
Well, I guess I made a mistake this time and gave them $3.75. Either way, she was really rude. She showed me the receipt, and I apologized and admitted my error. But then came the best part. Looking at it, I pointed out that I had forgotten to ring up her coffee, and that I would be right back with an updated check. She was angry that she ended up paying more than if she’d just kept her mouth shut.
Story Credit: Reddit
I was a manager at McDonald’s and I worked there for about two years. After a few issues with upper management, I decided to quit and pursue another job in the food industry. The day I quit, I got an offer to work at a popular ramen restaurant, where the ramens cost between $13-$20. Now, I thought I would be a PRO at working at my new job.
But it was just like hitting rewind and learning from the start. McDonald’s compared to working at a restaurant is a huge step and has many differences. I still decided that I was going to try my hardest to be quick with learning everything. During my first shift, I guess some customers could tell I was very stressed out.
In my opinion, the training wasn’t very good. This restaurant is more of a “learn as you go, but still get scolded for not knowing something that you weren’t taught”. One of my tables in my section overheard me getting scolded for something, and continued to watch me work. I could feel their eyes on me but I thought nothing of it.
By the end of their stay, they called me over. Asked for the bill, and had separate bills between the two. I brought it over to them and they paid. After paying, one of the guys took $50 out of his pocket and told me, “You’re a hard worker and I can see that. It can be stressful, but you’ll get used to it as you work more. Don’t let the mistakes get the best of you!”
I almost started crying. Since this was an Asian restaurant, usually tips get split between everybody. But the manager let me keep it as it was specifically for me. Thank you to the guy who made my first shift 100% better and for relieving my stress.
Story Credit: Reddit/k0maru
I was serving a family. The parents were clearly in their 50s/60s, while their kids were in their mid-20s. When ordering drinks, I carded the kids but not the parents. The mom pipes up with the whole, “Heyyy I don’t look that old, why didn’t you card meeeeeeeee?????????” I respond with, “Okay, let me see your ID, then”. It all went so wrong.
As it turns out, mommy dearest left her wallet at home. I inform her that, unfortunately, once requested, I am legally not allowed to serve her drinks unless she produces a valid ID. Obviously, she’s FURIOUS about this, so I send the manager over to confirm with her that I am not allowed to serve her. It almost goes without saying that I didn’t receive a tip, but hopefully, this idiot learned something today.
Story Credit: Reddit/spacemermaid1701
Setting: Miami Beach, Florida in late 2009. This was at a Seafood Bar and Grill. I had this 40-something, sweet as pie, creative, and smart regular who would come in with his elderly mother every Sunday and ask to be seated with me. We’ll call him Jimmy. He was certainly on the spectrum, but a genius in his own right. He was a very talented painter (I’m sure he still is).
Every Sunday, Jimmy would be sitting at my table greeting me with an honest to goodness smile. Between managing tasks for them and other tables, I’d have incredible conversations with Jimmy about the universe and physics. About mathematics and art. I was very happy to have met such a great customer. I could also tell he thoroughly enjoyed the company of a server who, one, didn’t find him strange and off-putting, and two, who could keep up with his favorite topics of conversation.
I had just started studying mathematics in college at about this time, and I’m also on the spectrum (but was undiagnosed at the time). I very much looked forward to seeing them each week. After about a year of this, he one day excitedly announced that his sister from New York was coming into town and that he’s told her all about me and he can’t wait to introduce us. He’s convinced I’ll love her, and I didn’t doubt him.
So, next week comes around and now there are three people sitting at my table! I can see this thin, elegant yet earthy woman with GORGEOUS wild curly hair. Jimmy introduces her as Patty. She’s oozing with charisma, and she definitely had a NYC attitude—short, to the point—but she was, you could instantly tell, very caring.
Also intimidating and smart. Not like the dreamy, colorful, wooey science stuff Jimmy and I liked, but like…savvy. Jimmy had been keeping up with my progress in school since around the time I had started. This was between semesters, and he knew that I picked four exciting classes for the following semester. More than I had ever put on my plate before.
He had asked me about how I felt now that the semester was coming up. I was freshly 19, with no financial aid, no student loans, living on my own, working two serving jobs to pay rent and tuition. I was super poor. Sure, I picked those classes…but, really I was just hoping against hope that I could come up with the $1,200 I needed to pay for them.
The deadline was fast approaching and I had, just days before this conversation with Jimmy, Patty, and their mom, made the decision to drop one, if not two, of the classes so that I could afford the semester. Smiling and embarrassed, I told him that I’d be dropping a couple of the classes. He gave a frown and an “aww” and I had to scamper off to go do server stuff.
Between the refills and the food drop-offs and the cleanups, we all just continue chit-chatting. Patty casually asked how much my four-class semester was going to run me. I told her, not thinking anything of it. The conversation naturally moved on. I run off again to serve other tables and I come back to their table towards the end of the meal.
Gabbing continues when Patty extends her hand out to me…with a piece of paper. Instinctually, I grab it and look. Its contents changed my life. It’s a check for $2,000. I try and give it back, tears in my eyes, but she’s not smiling—though I can tell she’s perfectly happy—and she adamantly refuses to take it back. NYC attitude in full swing.
I can tell she’s totally serious. And I just sloppily thank her and then run into the kitchen because all of a sudden my knees are Jell-O. I plop on the floor on my behind and cry. Other staff are running toward me, concerned, and I can barely tell them that it’s not anything bad, that in fact, it’s incredible, through the crying.
Eventually, I gather myself and I gave her a bit better of a thank you, and said goodbye. I paid for and took all four classes. Passed all of them with a perfect A. I bought a graphing calculator and a laptop, too. I’m not a mathematician yet, but I’m working on it. And I’m not rich yet, but the moment I can afford to make this kind of impact on someone else, I will. Thanks, Patty… <3
Story Credit: Reddit/BlaisePascal1123
Boy oh boy, some people. This happened yesterday. I’ll keep this short and not bore anyone with unnecessary back-story about the type of restaurant I work in, or anything about the set up. All you need to know is that: First, it’s fairly small, so I work alone with one chef; second, it’s family-friendly; and finally, we have a wide menu, with options ranging from $7.00 dishes to our most expensive $17.50 dish.
Not very pricy at all. One day, I received a phone call asking specifically about our $17.50 dish—our seafood paella. It’s made fresh to order, and takes about 15-20 minutes to make. Not to mention that seafood is expensive. So, the price is justified. The person I was speaking to asked if we were a buffet. We are not. I told them we are table service, and can do the paella any time.
I asked if they wanted to make a reservation because of the time it takes to prepare the paella. They said no, and hung up. So I went about my day. A few hours later, a family of four comes in. They sit down, glance at the menus, and then wave me over with a snap of the father’s fingers (gotta love that). The dad then says, “Show me the paella”.
I direct him to the back of the menu, where it’s listed very clearly and shows the ingredients and the price. Him: “I want that”. I write it down. The mother then says she wants a paella, followed by the two kids saying the same. So I confirm. Me: “So that’s four paellas? You don’t want to share?” Dad: “No. We’ll all have paella”.
So I put the order in after reminding him it’ll take about 15 minutes. I offered them drinks, but they just wanted water. I started getting the cheap vibe, but they ordered FOUR paellas, so how cheap could they be? Food comes out. They love it. Dad asks if he could get one to go. I put the order in so it would be ready when they finish.
We’re at five paellas now, and almost $90, before tax. I let the chef/owner know my concerns that the family may object to this price despite having made it clear to them. He gave me the okay to give them a 10% discount right off the bat. He’s a good guy. The time comes to bring the bill, and the man’s eyes go super wide.
I wrote out the bill so that every paella has $17.50 next to it. I watch as realization hits. He opens his mouth to object, and I immediately say, “The owner said to give you a discount because you ordered five of our most expensive dish and he wanted to thank you. He was happy to hear that you enjoyed it enough to order another to take home”. That shut him up. I then watch as he scans every last line of the bill and then settles on the tax, which was nearly $11.
Him: “You added a tip for yourself?” He was angry. Me: “No sir”. Him: “What’s this then?!” Me: “…The tax”. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting a tip at that point, but he did leave me 10%. So basically the discount we had given him. They said the food was excellent, but I highly doubt they’ll be back. For some reason, they thought ordering the same dish would equal just the price of one dish.
Story Credit: Reddit/Serendipitious14
First, let me explain a few things here. This is not my story as such, but I got to witness it firsthand. A good friend of mine is from a family that owns three very successful Italian restaurants, with a pizza oven that uses actual wood, so really top of the line. So he learned the business basically from the day he could walk.
When he was 25, he had a good business idea: A place in the middle of the city that sells mostly slices out of a window, but also whole pizza, pasta dishes, and salad, and does delivery. Plus a few small tables inside if someone wants to eat here. He created a solid business plan, and had his eyes on a prime location. It is 50 meters away from the biggest parking area in the city.
There are 400 parking spots there, where several times a year we have big city fairs, and anybody who wants to go in the park strolls right by it. So his dad said he would finance him, but as a credit to be paid back in a timely manner. They agreed on everything, and a year later he opened up. The story takes place about two years after they have opened and the place is HOT.
He already repaid almost 75% of the credit in a mere two years. Usually, there is a line for the slices, which are from a huge family-size pizza. One day, we are sitting at a table playing chess, while his guys run the shop; he had already worked a full 11 hours that day. In comes a baby boomer couple, and it was clear as day that the lady with the you-know-which haircut rules this relationship with an iron fist.
They sat down at the table next to us, and after not even a minute she rudely asked us why she has no menu yet, and to get off our lazy butts. I already wanted to tell her I do not work here, but my friend winked at me and walked over to their table, giving them our menus. The lady says to him, “It’s about time you get off your lazy butt”. By the way, she has now waited a minute. “You can’t play chess when you have people waiting. What kind of service is this?”
So my friend took their drink orders and walked behind the bar to make their drinks right away. They had to wait maybe three minutes for their drinks. When he comes back, she says, “About time, did you have to brew it first, or what is taking so long?” At this point, my friend’s patience is starting to wear thin, but he still stays friendly.
Friend: “You saw me walk to the bar and make your drinks right away, then return right away. Those drinks take a bit to pour correctly. I am sorry, but there is no way I could have brought those to you any faster”. Her: “We are customers and this is how you talk to us? Ever heard of the customer is always right? How can you be so rude to paying customers?” Now my friend really had enough.
Friend: “I was very respectful toward you, while you were very rude from the moment you came in here—“ The moment he said that, she got this weird grin on her face, and you could tell this was EXACTLY what she wanted. Her: “SHUT UP ! How dare you!!! I will have you know that me and the owner are old friends. I will have your job over this, now get me your manager”.
This is where it got so good. He decides to mess with her. Friend: “PLEASE, I need this job”. Her: “TOO LATE, you should have thought about this before you treated guests this rudely. NOW. GET. ME .THE . MANAGER”. Friend: “Right away miss”. He then went behind the bar and had a short talk with one of the older guys working there.
They then both return to the table. Server: “What seems to be the problem?” Well, this woman changed so fast. Suddenly she played the sweet old lady. “When we came in here, your server sat there with someone and played chess. We waited and waited, and finally asked nicely if we could have a menu. He rolled his eyes at us and gave us the menu from his table”.
She tells the rest of her “story” in her sweet voice, then says, “Since I know the owner, and we eat here all the time, usually, the service is excellent. I demand you fire him and comp our meals”. The new server turns to my friend and asks, “Is that really what happened?” Friend: “Of course not, she came—” Then the lady’s mask drops again.
She starts screeching, “What are you asking him for? I just told you what happened. Are you calling me a liar? Wait until the owner hears of this”. At this point, my friend and the server could no longer hold it back and they started laughing. Her: “YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, NEVER EVER HAVE I BEEN SO INSULTED”. Well, enough was enough.
Friend: “Yeah I know, wait until the owner hears of this. Oh wait, the owner already did hear of this. I AM THE OWNER, and I have never seen you in my life, nor have you ever eaten here. You two are just trying to scam a free meal out of me, by being impossibly difficult until the server finally snaps or does something wrong”.
Wow, I had no idea people could get that red in the face. She put 10 dollars on the table immediately. Friend: “Now GET OUT”. And they shuffled out, never to return. BOY that was the most entertaining attempt to scam him I have ever witnessed.
Story Credit: Reddit/hicctl
This isn’t your traditional server story, as I make pizzas, but it’s still a frustrating story from the food industry. I work at a chain pizza place, and like most pizza places our busiest day is Friday during the dinner rush. Almost all the staff is on hand and everything is on fire. It really didn’t help that we had a 40-pizza order that day due at 6:00 pm.
This all happened last Friday. A lady calls in (by the way, please order from the web) and orders four pizzas for delivery. Three of them were double pepperoni pizzas, which take way longer than you would think. I tell her that it will take about 1½ to 2 hours for delivery. This lady starts asking what the heck is up with that wait time, and I explain what I said before about the dinner rush.
She goes into a rampage, telling me that she’s been at work all day and she does not want to cook. “My family is starving, my kids are crying, and you’re just making them suffer more with that wait time!” Being the shy, timid college girl I am, all I could do is apologize and apologize as this lady is grilling me. Also, the wait time is only getting longer as orders are coming in.
She still hasn’t put in her order, and I can’t help make anything as I’m on the phone. My manager knows this. So he comes over to the phone and takes it from me. He asks the problem and then says, “Here, your wait time will be nothing and you won’t have to spend any more money!” Slams the phone down, ignores her order, and continues on with his work. Thank you, manager!
Story Credit: Reddit/Vizzy1225
Saturday night, I have a table of six. It’s a mom and dad, plus four kids between the ages of probably 6-10. Nice people, well-behaved kids, whatever. It comes time to order food, and the dad gets really serious and says, “We need to have a conversation”. I kind of laugh a little because up until now, things have been light-hearted and jokey.
But then he starts telling me that his daughter has a severe milk allergy. This isn’t a problem, but as the conversation continues the mom starts to interject a little and I learn that the kid is sensitive to even the slightest cross-contamination. That’s fine, I’ll have my kitchen manager make it in the back at our separate stove for allergies like this.
But no, I don’t understand, she will literally go into anaphylactic shock, they have an Epi-Pen, the whole bit. One of the kids (not the allergic one) says, “Yeah don’t give her milk or it’ll be off to hospital-town tonight!” I assure everyone no one will be going to hospital-town, and that I’ll take good care of them and let my kitchen manager know the severity of the situation.
I’ll spare you the lengths I had to go to just to keep the kid’s burger safe because that’s not the point of the story. When it finally comes time to run everyone’s food, the little girl with the allergy got a burger with bacon and an egg on it, nothing else. I was carrying everyone else’s food on a tray while my manager carried her burger separately.
My manager sets the burger down at the spot the little girl was sitting in (she’s not around at this point) and the dad immediately springs up from his seat and sits in her place. He picks up the top bun and closely inspects it, then holds it against his nose and takes a good long whiff. Then he takes the corner of the egg and lifts it up a little to inspect it, then rips the piece he grabs off and sort of breaks it up in his fingers a little bit, and eats it.
Gets up, says all is good, and the rest of the dinner went without issue. I guess he was checking for butter. My manager and I were so taken aback. We’ve never seen anyone act that cautiously, ever. Honestly, I respect it, though. I’d hate to know what experience they had at what restaurant to cause this behavior, but I’m glad that whatever it was wasn’t in my restaurant on my watch.
Story Credit: Reddit
One of my favorite co-workers is a woman who’s been serving for over 30 years. She’s not well-liked by many because she’s meaner than an entire bag of piranhas, but if you can fire back (and do your job right) she’ll respect you and be your best friend. She told me a story today from back in the 80s when she first started.
She sees this guy come in wearing a really nice suit, and she watches him take the cash someone left as a tip, right off of the darn table, as she’s going back into the kitchen. She walks up to him and says, “I saw you take that. I want that money back on the table when I get back out here”. She returns to the floor after a minute holding a pitcher of water.
Lo and behold, the money isn’t there. As she passes the table, she “trips” and dumps this pitcher of ice water all over this guy in his nice suit in the middle of a Michigan winter. She goes into a fake bout of apologetics. “Oh my goodness I’m so sorry sir! I’m so sorry!” Then she leans in and whispers: “I’ll be back in a minute with the coffee”.
She comes out a minute later, coffee pot in hand, to find that her money has mysteriously reappeared.
Story Credit: Reddit/IBlameLiam
Bottom line rule at my workplace space: If you’re not early, you’re late. The other day I sat down and zonked out…right before my shift. When I woke up, I was already 30 minutes late. For what it’s worth, I’m always on time and I love my job. I hit the ground running, but then something very much unexpected happened.
I discovered my 16-year-old kitty had passed in my bathroom. I of course lost it emotionally immediately. They covered my shift, but I had to be written up due to the tardiness factor. When I returned to work yesterday and mentioned signing the write-up, my awesome manager told me to forget about it and that I had enough on my plate. I can’t express my gratitude enough in words for the people I work for and with.
Everyone cares for each other so much! They are such amazing people and I just had to share this.
Story Credit: Reddit/mandelinorange
Oh my God, this was one of my most embarrassing moments. I was 18 and working in a Mexican restaurant. It was a table of four, two couples, who were pretty friendly and laughing. One woman was a grouch, but no big deal. One guy asks, “What is the “chor-IZ-o”? Me: Chorizo? It is basically a Mexican version of sausage, this one is spicy.
Other guy: “Ooooh! Can I get you to put the Mexican sausage into my fish taco?” LONG PAUSE. I proceed to absolutely lose my mind. I laughed until I was crying. I thought it was a joke! It only got worse when…One girl: I don’t get it…. Other girl: OH MY GOD Guy: I …uhhh… didn’t mean it that way. Worst server moment ever.
It still makes me so embarrassed. I ran back to the kitchen and traded tables. Apparently, I am an 11-year-old boy inside.
Story Credit: Reddit/buckshill08
I bartend, and was working a day shift. We aren’t a restaurant known for takeout, but we allow it and are set up through the various service apps. We had an UberEATs order in the middle of lunch hour, and eventually had a driver brusquely walk in and act a little aggressive when announcing himself. I had the order ready, so I asked him to verify what he was picking up.
He raised his voice, “It’s for [name], what’s the name say?” We don’t get a name. I told him that I didn’t have one, so I just needed him to tell me what was on the order. I’ve seen them check this dozens of times. It’s usually not inconvenient. Again, louder. “What’s the name say!? Are those the wings!?” It was three items together. None were wings.
I repeated that I didn’t have a name and told him that we didn’t have an order for wings. He got angry. “Are those the wings!?” I explained again that they weren’t wings, showed him that I had three items together, and asked him to clarify what order he was looking for. At this point, he snapped, and started screaming at the top of his lungs.
“CAN I GET ANY SERVICE!?” The bar fell silent. I put the food down and told him to leave. He continued shouting. “FINE, I’LL LEAVE THEN!” He continued causing a scene as he made for the door. I told him he needed to get out immediately or I’d call the authorities. Then he spit on the floor, slammed the door open, and stormed off.
The bar stayed silent for a few more seconds before people returned to their meals. Not two minutes later, another driver showed up, verified the order, and left without issue in under a minute.
Story Credit: Reddit/oppopswoft
You sat at my bar at just the right—or wrong—moment. I’d been getting my behind handed to me, and it wasn’t even 8 pm. You found a bar seat and ordered the soup special and a drink. You asked if the soup came with bread. I assured you it did. Even though I was wary, and had a feeling your bread would be forgotten, I was on the border of weedsville, and did not risk going back to the kitchen to make sure.
I was right, your soup came out in a very timely manner, but alas, no bread! Though I was now thoroughly slammed, I did indeed notice, and ran back to the kitchen to get some bread. This bread needs to be warmed, and it’s going to be a moment. I go back to my cubicle of fire and brimstone to see I’ve gotten a rather large group that I need to make sure I ID, since they all look extremely young.
From the corner of my eye, I see you are not eating your soup. This upsets me, but I can’t do much about it in my current state. However, I am worried for you. In my state of madness, you ask, “Is that bread coming anytime soon?” I feel faint. “I’m working on it! I’m sorry, I haven’t gotten a chance to—-” You say it’s ok, you see I’m busy.
This is still not ok with me. This man needs his bread. I get through my herd of college kids. I sprint to the kitchen to find perfectly warmed bread. I present my dude the bread, but I’m concerned, since I don’t think he’s touched his soup because he’s been waiting for bread. I saw this coming. I ask if I can get him a new soup, since he’s been waiting.
No. It was the perfect amount of time to let it cool down, apparently. The bread is perfect. He proceeds to tell me I’m incredibly good at what I do, understands I’m busy, and he will take the check. I thank him for his patience, and we laugh a bit. I go back to getting nearly ruined by college kids. $14 check, $40 tip. Thank you, bread guy. May your autumn days be filled with room-temperature soup and warm bread.
Story Credit: Reddit/QueenOfBrews
This happened years ago, but it still feels like it was yesterday. I was serving at a Steak ‘n Shake, and was about 70 lbs. bigger than I am now. I’m very white, with blonde hair, so you wouldn’t know by looking at me that I’m almost fluent in Spanish. As I was cleaning a table one night, the one right next to it was seated for me.
While wiping the dirty table, I heard the new table talking loudly about me in Spanish. When I understood their words, my blood ran cold. They were saying how big my butt was, how fat I was, and how they didn’t want to be served by someone so disgusting, not knowing that I 100% understood them. My initial reaction was anger and tears.
I wanted to give them bad service and not even try to be nice. But, I wanted to be the bigger person. I walked to the table and did my “Welcome to Steak ‘n Shake! My name is Brandi and I’m here to help you out” speech…but I said it all in Spanish. The look of shock and embarrassment on their faces gave me one of the greatest feelings ever. Then, I listed every burger, every milkshake flavor and every side item in Spanish.
For the entire meal, I spoke no English at all, and I gave them the kindest and most attentive service I’ve ever given anyone. The nicer I was, the more humiliated and ashamed they were. When one of them asked quietly if he could have some more water, I already had a tray in my hand with his water on it. They refused to speak Spanish to me, and would hardly even look at me.
When they left, they closed their ~$25 check, then left me a $50 bill under a plate for my tip. Such a glorious day! Everyone always asks why I didn’t spit in their food, give them bad service, or ring in their order wrong. Hurt people with kindness baby! That’s the way I do it.
Story Credit: Reddit/brandimariee6
Last night I had a table of two made up of a mother and her teenage kid. I couldn’t figure out if the kid was a boy or a girl because they had a gender-neutral haircut and amazing makeup on. Guys wearing makeup and styling themselves more feminine seems to be more common and doesn’t bother me a bit, but I didn’t want to offend them.
Instead, I did my best to use gender-neutral terms until the mom used the word “he”. Anyway, I get their dinner to them, check in, and leave them alone to enjoy their meal. Flash forward to the end of service and I really wanted to compliment him on his makeup, so I said “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but your makeup is awesome!” and oh my god, the mom just starts GUSHING.
She’s talking about how he’s going to NYC to do a really prestigious makeup artist program or something, and how her son had done her makeup for an event and how well it turned out. She was just so proud of her son and his talent even though it’s not a “typical boy’s hobby,” and it warmed my heart. I wished him luck and joked that with his skill he wouldn’t need it.
Mom tipped $10 on $30 and drew a smiley face on the merchant copy : )
Story Credit: Reddit/buttmuffins123
To start off, I’m not a server at the moment but this happened to one of ours. The other day we had a customer go OFF on a cashier because they asked if they replaced something due to an allergy or if it was just a preference. For what it’s worth the corporate office mandates that we ask this question for their records.
She had substituted some pasta for our gluten-free rice noodles and because it’s a lot more work for us to deal with it and a lot of people just honestly like the taste of rice noodles, we want to know if we strictly need to do it as an allergy order. This lady, who was I’d say 50 or 60, got real close, and in that Mom Whisper started lecturing him on how rude it is that he asked.
She says how it’s none of his business, how she has Never Been So Insulted, how we should just treat everything that COULD POSSIBLY BE GLUTEN FREE as if it was an allergy, etc., etc., etc. He replied: “Okay, that’s great, but is it an allergy or a preference?” therefore cementing him in my heart as one of my favorites. As expected, it was a preference.