The customer may always be right, but that doesn't mean they're never in the wrong. These food industry workers may be out of a job, but at least they got the chance to tell a completely ridiculous, rude, and unreasonable customer off on the way out the door.
Never Put Your Hands On The Waitress…Or Her Skirt
“My mom was working at an upscale cocktail lounge in Arlington, Virginia, just out of college. Fancy place – all DC businessmen. It was common for large groups of men to come in and get absolutely wasted.
One night, a guy decided after a few cocktails that it would be hilarious to untie the wrap skirt that was part of her uniform. Bad idea. My mother was furious and dumped an entire tray of martinis on his head.
She was promptly fired, but still thinks it was worth it.”
“My Friend Lost His Job AND Got Jail Time Out Of It”
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“A friend of mine used to work in a pizza place…I’d hang out in the lobby playing their PacMan machine…(yeah…it was a long time ago). Anyway, my friend was taking orders when a guy stormed in, screaming about wrong toppings. He removed the pie from the box and frisbeed it into my friend’s face. My two-time Detroit Golden Gloves champion friend. What followed was the worst beating I’ve ever seen one man take. My friend lost his job AND got jail time out of it.”
She Started It!
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“I threw a fish filet through the drive thru window at some lady while I worked at McDonald’s. She threw it first and I was pretty upset and yelled at her, ‘Don’t throw your f—ing food at me!’ as I hurled it back at her. Then I got fired. Overall, a pretty good day. Got to throw food at someone and didn’t have to work at McDonald’s anymore.”
His “Compliment” To The Chef Was Over The Line
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“I used to work in the restaurant industry as a chef. One day I was alone on the line and a server came to me and said a customer wanted to give me his compliments. No problem, I put on my nicer jacket and went out to say hi.
The customer thanked me, then told me to come in closely because he had a secret. I was like, okay sure? So I leaned in a little, he motioned me closer, I moved in a little more. This guy then goes, ‘I’ll meet you in the bathroom in five minutes,’ and grabs my balls.
I f—ing lost it and shoved the dude.
Got fired immediately.”
1/2 + 1/2 + 1/2 = You’re Fired
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“I used to work at pizza place in a small town when I was a teenager. One night I took a phone order from some idiot woman. It went like this:
Me: ‘Thank you for calling [pizza place], may I take your order?’
Idiot Woman: ‘Yes, I’d like a large pizza. Half pepperoni, half sausage, and half black olives.’
Me: ‘Ok, did you want the toppings combined or separated?’
IW: ‘No, I want half pepperoni, half sausage, and half black olives.’
Me: ‘Ok, so you want 1/3 pepperoni, 1/3 sausage, and 1/3 black olives?’
IW: ‘No! I want HALF PEPPERONI, HALF SAUSAGE, and HALF BLACK OLIVES!’
Me: ‘I understand the toppings that you want, but I’m not understanding how you want us to put the toppings on your pizza. Do you want them separated by thirds? Combined together? Or do you mean put half the amount that we usually put on?’
IW: ‘What’s so hard to understand?! I WANT. HALF. PEPPERONI. HALF. SAUSAGE. AND HALF. BLACK OLIVES!’
Me: ‘Lady, there’s only two halves to a pizza!’
IW: ‘I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!’
I got fired on the spot. It was easier for the manager to just hire another person than it was to lose a customer in a small town. Oh, and the lady wanted the toppings divided into thirds. She told the manager the same thing and he just went with her math. The b—- also got it for free.”
“Yes, I was Fired Immediately; Yes, It Was Totally Worth It”
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“I worked at Cinnabon. I was 16. I was a too-nice, insecure people-pleaser. Then my boyfriend broke up with me right before my shift at work.
So, this b—-y soccer-mom, frosted-tip type came up to my counter and ordered a cinnamon bun. I served one up on a plate. But she started freaking out at me. Some frosting had slid off her bun and back into the pan during transfer. She MUST have all her frosting! I am a terrible servant! I am trying to cheat her out of what she deserves! OOOOOHHHHH THE UNFAIRNESS OF IT ALL!
I snapped.
I grabbed the frosting tube from the baking counter right behind me. I leaned waaaaaay over the register. I brandished that frosting in her face and shouted, ‘Here. Open wide! I’ll just squeeze the frosting right in! Take as much as you want! At least you’ll shut the h— up!’
My manager was in the back of the store. Yes, I was fired immediately. Yes, it was totally worth it.”
She Said The One Thing He Could Never Forgive
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“Before I start this, I have to say I have a very bad temper and I am trying to work on it. I worked at a 5-star hotel and restaurant as a bartender. We often had wedding dinners, ceremonies, etc.
This one time, we hosted a wedding dinner. I was on the bad end of a 12-hour shift and still had two hours to go. I got an order for four drinks for the bride and three bridesmaids, so I made the drinks and took them through the dancing pissheads to the bride and her friends. As I arrived, however, the bride looked at me and sharply said, ‘You’ve given us the wrong drinks, are you stupid?’
I explained calmly, ‘These are the drinks that were on my order ticket, I apologize, if you tell me what you would like, I’ll make you some more drinks on the house.’
Raising her voice, she said, ‘I don’t f—ing want a drink in a minute, I want one now! You’re the worst bartender I’ve ever had the misfortune to come across! Kill yourself!’
Now, I didn’t appreciate that, especially as a dear friend of mine had killed himself three months prior. So I walked away quietly with a smile, got two big pitchers, filled them up with the reddest liquids I could find (red wine, black currant juice, cranberry juice, etc.), calmly took them to her and poured them all over her wedding dress, all the while I looked her in the eyes and called her a c—. I walked out of my job because I knew I was fired.”
Friends Share Everything, Right?
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“I work at a restaurant that makes burritos. A customer comes in and the manager says she’ll take care of him. As it turns out, she had dated the guy and they had issues or whatever and had a messy breakup. This is the first time they’ve seen each other since. Dude just showed up at her job. So he starts talking to her as she takes him through the line, and he’s saying things like, ‘I still consider you a friend, even after all this time,’ and other mushy bulls—. She’s obviously not interested. Doesn’t say a word until she gets to the end of the line.
She rolls the burrito and takes a giant bite out of it before wrapping it in foil.
He kind of stares at her for a minute, dumbfounded. And then he asks, ‘Did you just take a bite out of my burrito?’
She says, ‘I mean, you said we were friends, right? So what’s the problem?’
He ended up emailing the GM to complain and she got fired.”
Mushroom Burger Guy Is Just The Worst!
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“I was a bartender/manager at a restaurant. It was a super busy Monday night, and we were honestly not staffed for it. Think Friday night sales on a Monday.
The kitchen was trying their best, servers were in the weeds, and I had a full bar, as well as a printer that wouldn’t stop.
We came out of it okay, most people were totally understanding, except for mushroom burger guy (MBG). Every Monday, MBG would make a to-go order. And always complained, and it always resulted in a free burger.
He came in with his voucher and left. We had packed the mushrooms in a separate container as to not turn the bun into mush, gave him four times the amount of fries, free Caesar salad, and extra cheese. Hoping this would be the last of it.
He called in and asked to speak to the manager. He then complained he had no mushrooms, the bun was soggy, his fries were overcooked and the Caesar salad was dry. I f—ing lost it. But I had a plan.
Through my seething anger, I asked if he would willing to drive back and I’d give him a gift card for the meal. I had personally packed up his order and made sure it was perfect, but at this point I was tired of the free meal we gave him every week.
He accepted and came back. When he walked in the door, I asked for his ID, under the guise of ‘new corporate rules to deter fraud.’ He handed me his ID, I went into the office and photocopied it, and wrote DO NOT SERVE under.
I handed him back his ID, taped the photocopy to the wall, and said, ‘Sir, I’ve had enough of your bulls—, we’ve fed you every Monday for months, and enough is enough, you are banned from the restaurant, I’ve blocked your number, and you are no longer welcome here.’
He said my four favorite words: ‘Get me your manager.’
So I said ok. I walked into the kitchen, went out back, had a smoke, calmed down, then walked back out front.
When I came up to him and asked what the problem was, he started screaming about wanting the manager, at which point I said, ‘I am the manager, and you have 10 seconds to leave, or I’ll be notifying the police you’re trespassing.’ Cue more screaming, and an off-duty cop having dinner with his family ended up politely escorting him outside.
I got a call the next day for a meeting, showed up and was fired. So I did what any reasonable person would do. I took the liquor license off the wall in walked out. It was in my name, so I brought it with me.
F— them.”
It’s Never A Good Idea To Snatch Things From Others
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“I didn’t say this, but I saw it happen.
Worked at Burger King many years ago. I was working the drive-thru register, which was close enough to the front registers that I could hear conversations. One of my co-workers was taking an order from a lady who kept asking how much her total was, and then canceling food on it and changing her mind. I guess she was trying to keep it under a certain dollar amount.
Well, at the Burger King I worked at, any canceled food on an order needed a manager’s password (thanks to one a–hole who stole money by putting in someone’s order, telling them the total, and then canceling out the order and pocketing the money). So the manager had come by three or four times at that point. This was during dinner time, mind you, so there was a line of customers out the door waiting to order.
Finally, my co-worker pulled out a pad of paper and a calculator. He started writing this woman’s order down and totaling it out by hand. The woman asked him why he was doing that, and he told her, ‘When you make up your mind about what you want, then I’ll put it in the register.’
This pissed off the lady, so she grabbed the notebook and tried to hit my co-worker with it. He snatched it back from her and told her, ‘Get the f— out.’ My manager was only going to write him up for it (the manager agreed that the lady absolutely deserved it, but my manager had to follow company policy), but my co-worker already had two write ups on file, so she had to fire him.”
“Mashed?! You Want Them Mashed?!?”
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“My mother’s previous coworker worked at a burger joint restaurant. On a busy night this one table ordered mashed potatoes, the server tells them that mashed potatoes aren’t on the menu, but they have baked potatoes. They keep on insisting that they want mashed potatoes, but eventually they seem to agree that a baked potato is fine. So when the order comes out, so does the baked potato they ordered. He puts it down on the table and the customers go, ‘We wanted mashed potatoes!’
The server has had enough at this point and goes, ‘Mashed?! You want them mashed?!?’ He raised his fist and smashed it down on the baked potato, giving the customer exactly what they asked for, mashed potatoes. The management, however, did not find this dedication to the customer very professional and let him go.”
I Almost Gave The Old Annoying Lady A Stroke When…
“When I was in 10th grade I worked at Kroger, which is a local grocery store, during the summers. I was a bag boy part-time. One day this older lady, probably about 75 or 80-years-old, came in and wanted to buy a watermelon. When she got to the register, she asked me to go and grab her one because they were too heavy for her to carry, so I went and just grabbed the first one I saw. I brought it back and set it down thinking nothing of it. She immediately went and thumped it, then gave me a dirty look. I was like, wtf is this b—- doing? She scowled at me and told me it was not ripe and that I needed to go get her another one. I just said ok and grabbed that one, took it back, and grabbed another.
This literally went on like four or five times and she was really starting to be a b—- and I was starting to get severely pissed off. Finally, after the fifth time, she looked at me and said, ‘Are you stupid or something, don’t you know what a ripe watermelon looks like? You can keep going back and forth until you figure it out!’
I just looked at her and said, ‘Nope, I guess I don’t, so you can go get your own f—ing watermelon now, b—-.’ She literally almost had a stroke. I immediately turned around and walked out to my car and hauled a– to my buddy’s house. The store manager called me several times over the next few days, but I never answered my phone and he finally quit. Told my parents that I just got tired of working there and that I would find another job, which I did (waiting tables). I went in about a week later and grabbed my paycheck from the girl working at customer service and stealthy got out of there, never to be seen again.”
Don’t Press Your Luck
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“I used to work for a popular pub chain here in the UK, called Wetherspoons.
I had been there three years, I had been promoted to Team Leader… I wasn’t really too bothered about the job as a future because it was only money to keep my through university, but money’s money.
Anyway, one day we get a customer in, an American, who has just stepped off the plane. And all his preconceptions are off. For those not familiar with ‘Spoons, a few things:
-They don’t do table service. You have to order food at the bar, and pay before you get it. They’ll bring it to the table and clear it away afterward, but that’s about it.
-Food is known for being ‘cheap and cheerful,’ most of it is microwaved, bar the things that cannot be cooked in a microwave (like steak, for example)… It’s not high-quality gourmet dining and they don’t pretend it is.
-‘The ‘customer is always right’ ethos does not exist there. They’ll be polite, to a point, but if you take the piss, you won’t get good service or any at all. I’ve rejected more people than I can remember.
-It’s primarily a drinking establishment, most people don’t go there to eat, and most of the venues don’t have dedicated food-only areas.
Anyway, he comes in, has a seat and waits for a waiter, who obviously doesn’t come (keep in mind it’s not unusual for people to come in and sit and wait for friends and what not). He comes storming up to the bar, claiming he’s been waiting for a damn half hour.’
One of the bar staff, very confused, asks him, ‘What have you been waiting for?’ with 100% sincerity. The man seemed to think the bar staff was being sarcastic and rude. He started shouting.
As TL, I stepped in, did the diplomatic, ‘What’s going on? Oh, I’m very sorry sir, here let me take your order, blah blah blah…’
He orders a steak. Now, remember earlier where I said it wasn’t gourmet food? Well, that extends to the steak. They offer five levels of cooking, but really it’s basically rare, medium or burnt. He wanted his blue (very rare)…It comes out medium. He is not happy. He brings his plate up to the bar and slams it down onto the counter, red-faced and furious.
Me: ‘Can I help you?’
Him: ‘You better hope you can, because I’m about to call your manager in buddy!’
Me: ‘Well, hopefully I can, what is it I can help you with?’
H: ‘This…this “steak” is burned.’
M: ‘I’m very sorry, I’ll order a replacement and give you a full refund sir.’
H: ‘Not good enough! I don’t want another piece of s— like that, you hear me. Give me my f—ing money!’
M: ‘Excuse me sir, there is no need to be rude. I’ve offered you a refund, I’m happy to do that for you, but you will not swear at me.’
H: ‘I’ll swear all I want, kid. That trash you served up is not a damn steak, and I want a full refund, plus gratuity, or you can kiss your job goodbye.’
M: ‘That is a steak that was presented, sir. I’m sorry if it’s not to your liking, but I have offered the resolution, allow me to go get your money.’
H: ‘Hurry up about it! And that was no damn steak!’
M: ‘Then do you mind if I ask what you think it was then because it definitely wasn’t chicken.’ (I was pissed off at this point and the guy was a d—.)
H: ‘GIVE ME MY DAMN MONEY AND GET YOUR F—ING MANAGER, YOU LITTLE S—! NOW! NOW!’
At this point, he’s reaching across the bar and pointing at me. I don’t like people shouting at me. I hate people pointing at me.
M: ‘Actually, no. I won’t get my manager. And I don’t have to offer a refund. I was happy to give you one, but you’ve pissed me off now. So take your coat, and get the f— out.’
H: ‘You little s—, I’ll call the cops.’
M: ‘Do it. Then they can take you out for me.’
This goes back and forth for a while, gathering quite a bit of attention from the other clientele.
Manager walks up, man shouts at him, manager calms him down. Man demands I be fired. I get pulled into disciplinary, manager breaks the rule (and not an unwritten one, a legitimate, company mandated rule) that says managers take our side. He says he has to let me go.
I was fired, appealed, and owned him and that d—head so hard in the tribunal. Got payment for the four months I had been without a job, plus a little extra for the hassle, my record of being ‘sacked’ struck off my record and offered my job back.
Which I rejected.”
The Manager Turned The Tables On Her In An Instant
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“The manager that hired me at Papa John’s kind of had a bad temper, but nothing really ever happened…until she was working late one night and a customer accused her of trying to overcharge. After arguing for a while, the customer said she would ‘bring her cousins and jump you, f—ing b—-.’
That was it. My manager JUMPED OVER THE COUNTER and knocked her out. She was fired, obviously, and had a hard time finding jobs after that, but it felt like a victory to all of us who had taken s— from a customer, and we watched the surveillance video a few times afterwards.”
His Only Regret? He Didn’t Punch The Guy In The Face
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“Working the closing shift at a Quiznos with one other person. I was 20-years-old, male, pretty big. The other person was 16-years-old, female, and small. Closing time (11 pm) rolls around and we locked the door, started finishing cleanup. A few minutes later, an a–hole with a truck shows up and starts banging on the door. I was in the back pulling bread for the next morning and my coworker comes back there and said there was a guy at the door who was screaming at her, demanding a sandwich. She was visibly shaken and borderline crying, so I opened the door and started by telling the guy we were closed, but he cut me off and said he was there before 11 and wanted a sandwich. Back and forth, etc, and it all ended in me giving him the finger after he started verbally abusing me. I closed the door and locked it for my safety. He managed to take a picture of me giving the finger. Apparently, he came back the next day while I was at home and talked to my bosses. I, a keyholder, assistant manager, reliable employee with no prior history of anything negative, got a phone call that evening saying I was done.
Shouldn’t have given him the finger, should have punched him in the face. Only regret.”
The Customer Totally Set Him Up To Fail
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“I was 16 and worked at a grocery store. A guy came in one day and came up to me with an empty pickle jar and asked where he could find this brand. I asked him to follow me to see if we had it.
When we got to the aisle with the pickles, I asked for the jar to look at the brand. He gave it to me, but after a look, I realized we didn’t have it. I went to hand the jar back to him. To this day, I am convinced this was intentional, but he reached and knocked it out of my hand as he ‘tried’ to grab it. It shattered on the floor.
He proceeded to absolutely verbally tee off on me. Called me ‘pathetic,’ ‘an idiot,’ and, most frustratingly, ‘a little b—-,’ since I was just standing there ‘not cleaning up.’ This was literally, like, a 30 second rant, and he would have kept going if I didn’t say anything.
My temper broke. I was a bag boy making minimum wage. I didn’t care. I told him to shut the f— up, and asked him if he gets off by yelling at kids just trying to make a few bucks. I punctuated it with, ‘Eat s— and f— you,’ and walked off.
A few minutes later, I get called into my manager’s office and they fired me, but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
The Trouble Began When He Politely Asked The Woman To Repeat Herself
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“I once served tables at a fairly small, middle of the road restaurant. I was a barista and waiter. We had two tourists from England sitting sipping tea in the centre of the place. I asked if everything was okay for them and they seemed happy enough. A few seconds later, having spoken to the table beside theirs, I was walking back to the kitchen when one of the British ladies grabbed the back of my shirt from their chair, leaning as far as they could. Not a word said to me. She just grabbed me.
That already pissed me off. Now, these women weren’t the prim and proper, Queen’s English types and I struggled with their accent and how quickly they spoke. Nothing wrong with a regional accent! But let’s just say it was not the kind of accent that rolls off the tongue. More falls down the stairs of her esophagus. I asked the woman, politely, to repeat herself.
That’s when it began. ‘Ah ya f—in’ Stupid?! Can’yah nowt undahstan’ English?!’
Gritted teeth, trying to be polite, once again I apologized and said, ‘I’m sorry ma’am, I just could not hear properly, could you please repeat?’
She begrudgingly repeated, but I saw her glance at my name badge. I could see the TripAdvisor review already, ‘Inattentive staff.’ I brought her what she had ordered and she just ignored my existence. The other said, ‘About bloody time!’ (I have no control over how long it takes to prepare the food).
My coworker was German and we speak together in German quite often, out of earshot of customers, at our little station as we were folding napkins. I thoroughly enjoyed it, as that helped me practice. The woman overheard me speaking German and automatically assumed I was speaking about her. We were honestly discussing weekend plans. That is when the pit of hell opened before me.
‘If yah’ve summin’ tae say t’me, yah can do ‘eh in English. It’s the language you f—in’ paddies (Irish) use in this country!’ I explained that we were talking about going to the cinema on Saturday and that it had nothing to do with her. She was having none of it. She demanded to see my manager.
I snapped, ‘Madam. We were not talking about you. Please sit down. Eat what’s remaining of your meal. I’ll happily pay for it if it means you go away’.
‘Oh yah in for ‘eht now little man! Ye dint tawk te a customer like that!’ That’s when Paula, my coworker, chirped in, hoping to add a bit of humour, and said, ‘Well, he is the customer if he is paying for it.’
My manager, hearing the shouting, walked in and of course asked what was going on. Before I had a chance, she explained her heavily edited, ‘inspired by true events’ version of the story. That she was polite and kind to me and I had simply swore at her. Gave terrible service and was a discredit to the company. I was a waste of space and didn’t deserve the job.
F—, for minimum wage at that point I was tempted to just say, ‘Yeah, and shove the job up your a–,’ to my manager.
The manager looks me in the face and says, without hesitation ‘Get out, you’re fired’. Cool, bro. Thanks.
I replied to my manager and her, ‘If I’m fired, then I can say what I’m really thinking…Ma’am, if you weren’t a self-absorbed, ignorant c—, maybe you’d get better service? I hope every bite you took was disgusting. You’re a vile b—- and I hope to God you never set foot within a 10-mile radius of me again! I regret not spitting in the food. Burn in h—, you grabby c—! And by the way, our official language is Irish, not English.’ With that, I tore off my name badge, turned to my manager and said, ‘I’ll have the shirt back to you within a few days, Judas.’ Walked out and have not set foot in the place ever since. Was the most cathartic thing I’ve ever experienced. I’m usually the timid little twat. But that was just the best feeling I’ve ever had.”
An Epic Meltdown Over Potato Wedges
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“So I worked in the deli at Albertson’s (basic big supermarket) and boy do I have a laundry list of f—ing horror stories from that place, but this is the one that drove me over the edge.
The Albertson’s deli had a hot case filled with fried chicken and that sorta stuff. By this time in my career there, I was the only person left who could competently put out big orders of quality chicken in good time (to this day, I worry if this is my best skill) so I was in charge of the fryers at all times. This was a Sunday during football season and game days were always a f—ing zoo.
This lady calls in at about 9:00 am and orders a couple buckets of chicken, which normally comes with some potato wedges. I asked her if she wanted them and she said no. It should be noted here that my coworkers heard this and later testified with our manager on my behalf. So she comes in to get her order at the agreed time and her chicken and the sides she ordered are all ready and waiting for her.
I hand her the order and she says, ‘Where are my potato wedges?’ I apologize immediately and say I didn’t make them and that it was probably an over-the-phone misunderstanding (it wouldn’t have been the first one). She flips out, starts calling me incompetent and demanding I make them for her.
So I apologize again and go to grab a bag to cook out of the freezer behind the deli counter, only to discover that there are no more back there. I tell her I have to go to the freezer at the back of the store and she flips her lid again. At this point, I’m about ready to end her, so I bring my department manager over and let her try and talk her off the edge as I SPRINT FULL SPEED to the back of the store to grab another bag.
By the time I get back, our store manager is standing there talking to her and my department manager. I make the potato wedges (they take only like six minutes) and start trying to help the now humongous line of people that has formed while I wait for them to cook. I cook them, hand them over, and she goes to pay.
So flash forward about 10 minutes. There is still a sizable line and I’m standing at the fryers when I hear this lady suddenly start shouting my name (she must have got it from one of the managers). I turn to look and she is staring at me with this superior look and giving me that one finger ‘come hither, I’m not done with you’ gesture and I just lose it.
I point violently at the line of people and say, ‘I have other orders to fill, I don’t give a flying f— what you have to say. You’re not more important than these people, so get the f— out of my store.’ She looks appalled and leaves.
By company policy, they would have fired me, but they didn’t dare at that point because I was the only person keeping that place together. I quit a few weeks later, but, to this day, I hardly ever eat fried chicken.”
Even His Friends Were Embarrassed By His Behavior
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“I was working at a diner franchise, I won’t say which one, but it has a yellow sign.
Guy and four of his friends all came in late, like around 11. They ordered a couple of appetizers, sodas, and one guy ordered an actual meal.
Pretty standard affair. They asked me a few personal questions to make conversation a few times, I casually flirted back with the young gay gentleman who was hitting on me and made sure their drinks were full. I did not do an excellent job, I did have other tables, but I definitely gave good service.
The main guy, who was awfully quiet, was the one to pay the $35 bill. He paid with card, and for my tip, left me a single dollar. To add insult, I was the cashier as well, so I was ringing him up.
Needless to say, I was fuming on the inside. I took the signed receipt, put it in the register and told him to wait a quick second. I then went into my tip pocket, pulled out a dollar bill threw it onto the counter, and said, ‘If all you can afford for a tip is a dollar, you clearly need it more than me.’
I should have walked away like a boss, but I kinda burnt up all my rage and didn’t know what to do next. He looked at me, more confused than hurt, and asked to speak to a manager.
This is when s— got crazy. I called over the one manager out of three that would be the least upset. It took her a few minutes, but she made it to the register. Also, his friends went out to smoke while he was paying the bill. At this time, they were almost done and were starting to wonder what was going on.
So the manager came up, asked what was wrong, and the young gentleman explained the situation. After a few seconds, the manager said, to date, one of the best things I have ever heard, ‘Well, it seems my waiter was observing the Golden rule and treating you how you expect to be treated. If there was an issue with the food, I could offer you a refund, but as your complaint lies with the waiter, I could refund you the gratuity, but he has already done that. Is there anything else?’
I don’t know if it’s important to mention, but this entire time, this customer had not raised his voice, caused a scene or acted outwardly angry. At this comment, he turned and walked out.
My manager told me I’d probably be fired, but I would need to talk to the GM (I was fired).
However, about thirty seconds after the guy left, his gay friend came back in with four dollars in his hand and said, ‘I can’t believe he did that. I am so sorry.’ And walked out.”
