The manager and waitress tried to object, but the cop bluntly told them that 'the only thing the kid threw up was breadsticks, and if they want to go out by the bushes and check for themselves, they were welcome to it.'
Everyone in our group had our eyes wide open, and the manager and waitress were equally stunned to reply.
We didn't argue, we got up and left, and hit the first drive through on the way home. Craig was twice as hungry as the rest of us since he didn't get to digest his breadsticks."
"I worked the prep line at a major sit down burger restaurant. During a busy Sunday rush, a party comes in which includes a complete and total shrew of a woman. The server is a very small girl, like just over 4 feet, and the shrew is treating her like garbage as they all order food. The order gets placed, food goes out, the shrew complains and gripes while taking it out on the server. The server is crying at this point, full on sobbing, and returns the food to the back to me and says 'The lady wants it to go because we obviously can't make it correct in time for them to leave for their afternoon movie or whatever'. The server runs to the back to cry.
'Okay', I say to myself, 'I can take care of this'. I decided to remake her food, however, I make sure the condiments come from the crusty corners of the pans. Also, the lettuce and tomato are the freeze-dried pieces from the bottoms of their pans. Lastly, the fries. Oh my, the fries! I reached behind the fry drop next to the grease fryers and scrape crusty, old, dehydrated fries that have been there for hours into her to-go box and seal it up. For my amusement alone, I drew a smiley face on top and sent it out.
As the shrew was leaving I saw her pop the box open and eat a fry. Afterward, I told the server what I did. She was equal parts furious I did that to her guest, and grateful that I cared enough about her to get revenge. I told her we look out for each other, it was a crazy busy Sunday after all."
"Friends were visiting me in Europe, and I wanted to make a good impression, so I took them to a beautiful lakefront grill. I was the only one who spoke the language (French), so I made an effort to be jovial and witty with the waitress in order to show off as much as possible.
From the getgo, the waitress was super combative... There was no way she was going to be ok with our presence. We ordered simply- I translated ... And she refused to understand. And I'm talking 'I'll have the number 2' level French. There's no way she didn't understand- she was just making trouble.
My friends don't understand and so aren't getting why the waitress is upset. 2-3 minutes of the waitress wailing on about how we aren't making sense and I finally growl 'It's not that difficult!' and I smacked the table. Unfortunately, the table was a light metal and the mighty clang that rang out was not in any way representative of the force I put into it. But that's exactly what the waitress wanted. She cries 'I won't put up with this' and runs off to her manager and I can see her waving her arms and screaming about us.
I tell my friends red-face that we may have to go elsewhere. I then calmly get up and approach the manager and waitress and say (in French) that I'm sorry, but I've never been treated so badly by a waitress, who clearly just wants to fight, and that we'll be going.
The manager looks at me and says, 'You speak English?' Already nerves rattled, I respond 'I can speak French.' He says, 'But you speak English.' I cannot tell what he's getting at, but I'm thinking it's leading to French anglophone insult. He says (now in English): 'I'm going to speak to you in English.' The waitress is still standing next to us I'm really ready for it now.
'She's crazy,' the manager says, 'I'm not joking. Like really crazy.' The waitress doesn't blink and I realize he switched to English because she doesn't understand a word! 'But I can't fire her because she's family, so please let me serve you personally and I'll make sure everything goes better.'
Immensely relieved, I sit back down and relate the story to my friends, while out of the corner of my eye I can see the manager yelling at the waitress.
The meal goes amazingly- the manager comes by every few minutes and apologizes superfluously. He ends by saying 'she's really a ... How do you say in English? Jerk? Jerk!? Can you call a woman this?'
I didn't impress my friends, but faith in often dodgy European restaurant service was somewhat restored."
"My family and I were literally the only people in a restaurant for dinner, so you'd think we could get decent service. You know when someone asks how you're doing and you say, 'Fine, how about you?' You, I, and pretty much everyone else in the civilized world know that this is just a formality. I don't care how your day is going.
Unfortunately for us, our waitress decided she was going to unload her life's story on us. Took her literally 10 minutes while the rest of us shared awkward glances. Then when she was serving our drinks, she decided to eavesdrop and chime in on our conversations randomly. 'Oh, you're from Florida? I've been there before. It's so nice. Have you been to such and such...' 'Omg I know, wasn't that movie so cool? I saw it last week with my friends and we... etc.'
The icing on the cake was when she was FINALLY bringing our order out. She managed to burn her neck on a plate while she held the tray on her shoulder. She dropped the whole thing. In the middle of the empty dining room.
After she cleaned up she comes over and goes, 'Umm, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that was your meal I dropped.' Oh really?? 'I burned my neck on a plate. See? This is the mark. I burned it right here. But, I'm gonna tell the kitchen in a minute to make a new order. It should only be a few minutes.'
We eventually got our food and had to endure her for the rest of the meal."