Jimmy or Warren? If it was Jimmy, I’d have at least tried the Margaritas…
Did they have a bouzouki player?
We don’t get much call for it around here.
I went to Denny’s with about six guys at 11:30 one night, and after waiting five minutes to be seated (the place was practically empty, and there was no one else waiting), we then waited another 15 minutes for someone to take our order. And then another 40 minutes for it to come out. When we got the bill, we saw that the special $1.99 breakfast (only good from 6 am to midnight) had been charged to us at a higher rate. I pointed out the error, and the waitress said that it was well past midnight. I got pissed and pointed out that not only did we get there and order before 12, but the only reason that it was well past 12 now was that they were so damned slow getting the food out.
Out at a Shoney’s with my parents in South Carolina somewhere. My dad asks the waitress if he can get some worcestershire sauce. She looks at him blankly.
“We don’t have that. I could probably get you some wor-SES-ter-shire sauce, though – we got that!”
She was just so darned cute about it, and so pleased that she could help us even though they didn’t have what we wanted.
Heh.
When my ex first started as a waitress, she was pretty clueless.
“May I help you?”
“Two beers and some Buffalo wings, please. Oh, and we’d like a tab.”
“We have Diet Pepsi, is that OK?”
“No, you don’t understand. We want to run a tab.”
“I could go across the street to the grocery store and get you one.”
“No, we want to run a tab.”
“I’ll go get one now. Is Diet Coke alright?”
Way back in high school, my first job was at a family-style “steakhouse” with large salad buffet. The buffet also had hot appetizers, soup, and pasta. Technically we had a rotating schedule for what soup and what deep-fried appetizer would be on the buffet on what day, but this was obviously affected by things like availability - if we didn’t order enough of a particular item to meet demand, or if we didn’t have as much interest in the soup the day before, then the “scheduled” item might not be available. IIRC we didn’t have a schedule posted, but regulars would notice that, say, every Thursday was chicken wings and French onion soup, and would often get bitchy if we instead served a little clam chowder from the day before (made fresh that morning, and we always followed proper procedure and threw out any hot food that was on the buffet that night, so we were just putting out what had been kept cold as an intended refill), or if there weren’t chicken wings out on the buffet but, instead, breaded zucchini or something. We even had people calling our kitchen to ask what the soup/appetizer of the day was. At a plain old family-style restaurant with little plastic trays and a salad buffet, yup. It got to the point where if they called during rush and would just let the phone ring a dozen times or so, a manager would go over to the phone, pick it up, then hang up immediately.
I hated chicken wings. The bastards took 8 minutes in the deep fryer. Compare that with breaded clam strips which took only 30 seconds. If you got a big rush and got those families that ordered steaks for everyone, filled up on the wings in the buffet, then took their steaks home, you’d be cleaned out in an instant and suddenly people would be whining for more wings while the timer on the deep fryer slowly ticked down.
At one point, we were out of chicken wings. It wasn’t a simple ordering issue; our supplier was out. According to a manager, it affected more than our restaurant, and as I remember it was a couple weeks at least before we got any. This manager’s explanation was that the chickens the supplier had weren’t big enough to kill yet, and he even said it around customers, so by god, that’s what I said too. Complaints - or by the end of the Great Chicken Wing Famine, even just questions - about “where are the chicken wings, it’s Thursday?!” were answered with “sorry, our supplier is completely out and the chickens they have aren’t big enough to kill yet,” and a polite smile with the thought of “fuck you for caring so goddamned much about what we put out on the buffet on a particular day” behind it.
That job was almost worth the hassle - I’ve sworn to never work in food service again if I can help it - just for getting to say that and watch people get these “omg she’s talking about chickens getting killed” expressions on their faces. Yes, that’s where those wings come from, folks.
You forgot intelligent, kind, skilled, and funny. 
20 year old supermodel waitresses are never any of those things. 
And I own my own sock drawer.
Baby.
To begin, I’m a very, very picky eater. I know this.
As a result, I usually have standard orders in restaurants, often with special instructions (“hold this,” “this on the side,” etc.)
But for whatever reason, I decided to be adventurous one night when out with friends, and I ordered something I usually wouldn’t. When it came, I looked at it, picked at it a little, (I think I took a bite) and decided that I didn’t want to eat it.
For the record, this was a perfectly (well, it was a chain restaunrant, so reasonably well) cooked item. There was nothing wrong with it, not too cold, or too hot, or too anything - just a combination of flavors and textures that I did not enjoy. They had brought me exactly what I had ordered. The fault was mine in ordering it.
Somehow, our waitress became aware that I wasn’t eating (it’s been a while, I’m not sure if we called her over to take it back or if she noticed my friends, who were very used to my pickiness and well able to eat anyway, eating while I was just sitting there), and I asked her to take it away because I wasn’t going to eat it. I said (multiple times) that I planned on paying for the food - I had ordered it and there was nothing objectively wrong with it, I just didn’t want it. That wasn’t an acceptable solution.
She couldn’t or wouldn’t take the food back. She asked me if I wanted something else (not really). She kept asking if there was something wrong with it (no). She then said she’d have to talk to her manager. My friends kept eating (a bit surprised), but surely enough, the manager came out and sat by the table to go through the same set of questions. (All this time, I was still stating that I would pay for the food. I wasn’t trying to cheat them or rob them or pull anything, I just didn’t like it.) After quite a long discussion it ended with something along the lines of “but we can’t take it back to the kitchen like that with no explanation.”
Now admittedly, I have never misordered so badly before or since - but why ever not? Why should they be concerned with whether a paying customer eats the food, so long as they aren’t being a nuisance?
I’m a server, so I’m very forgiving, and it has it’s perks. You know all the times you were snarky to a waitress because the kitchen fucked up? Well, imagine if you were nice and understanding, instead. Free drinks! Desserts comp’ed! Sweet.
However, I just had a very bizarre experience at a little deli. I’m making my soooo fabulous strawberry-champagne vinegar dressing, but oops, no champagne vinegar. So I go down to the deli/import store where I usually buy it. I’m the only one in the store, and the cute guy behind the cash register is reading a comic book. I hate being harassed by overly “helpful” employees when I shop, so this is perfect. Except today, they’re out of what I need. They do have champagne citrus vinegar, but I loathe the taste of lemons. So I walk up to the counter, and try to get the guy’s attention.
Me: Hi.
Him: (read read read)
Me: Um, hey. I have a question.
Him: (read read read)
Me: cough
Him: Sorry, had to finish the page I was on.
Me: Ummm, okay, I was just -
Him: So what’s new?
Me: What?
Him: How are you today?
Me: Ohh, good. I was just wondering if this has a strong citrus taste? (I’m holding the bottle right in front of him. The one that says “citrus” in big letters)
Him: No, the champagne vinegar doesn’t.
Me: But it’s citrus champagne vinegar.
Him: Oh, let me go ask someone.
(wait wait wait wait. Not that I mind, there’s lots of cool things to look at. A few minutes later, a woman emerges from the back room.)
Her: The white balsamic tastes just like regular balsamic, just not as strong.
Me: Uhhh, okay. I don’t… I was just wondering about this vinegar, if the citrus taste is strong.
Her: No, champagne vinegar doesn’t taste like lemons, it’s very light.
Me: Even the citrus champagne vinegar?
Her: Oh, we don’t carry that.
Me: Uhh, well… (showing her the bottle. now, there was a whole display of this stuff, with a sign and everything. not like they’d accidentally receieved a shipment or anything.)
Her: Oh, you mean the citrus champagne vinegar.
Me: Yes, um…
Her: No, it’s not lemony.
So I bought it, and the cute cashier guy messed up or something, because it only cost half of what the sign said, but I didn’t realise that til I left the store because I was just so. Incredibly. Confused. by what had just happened. I feel kind of Alice-in-Wonderlandy right now.
Have you tasted it yet? Is it lemony? (you realise that if it isn’t you could take it back to complain )
There’s probably a couple of things at work here.
First, most restaurants rely on word-of-mouth advertising. And people are much, much quicker to complain than compliment. Think about it; if you go to a local place and have a great meal, you’ll probably tell one or two close friends. If you have a bad meal, you’ll tell a dozen friends, all your coworkers, the members of an anonymous message board, and so on. Most owners are quite concerned about this. It’s far more worth it to take one person’s meal off a bill and have them leave happy than charge them for the wasted food and lose a couple potential customers.
Second, you have to admit it’s quite rare for people to “just not like something”. You came to a restaurant - you’re probably hungry. You looked over the entire menu and then picked this one dish, so there must have been something that appealled to you about it. Maybe it’s spicy, and the server was supposed to warn you of this. Maybe they cook their steaks to a unique temp, and the server was supposed to ask “medium rare” to you was pink on the inside, blah blah blah. The server probably asked the manager to come over partly to cover her own ass, so the manager couldn’t accuse her of not being thorough enough and just wasting food.
It’s not that they didn’t believe you that you just didn’t like it, it’s just that you deal with soooo many people who say what you said, but then tell everyone they know about the terrible service and the shitty food and how unhelpful everyone was. People like to create sob stories for themselves, and the staff was probably just doing everything in their power to assure themselves you weren’t one of those people.
And there are few things more terrifying to a server than having to walk into the kitchen and throw an entire plate of food into the garbage WITH THE CHEF RIGHT THERE. “What’s wrong with it? Did you fuck up the order? You didn’t tell them it was spicy, did you?”. Most chefs are pretty nice, until they see you throw away a plate of food that they believe was God’s most perfect dish, as cooked by them.
I’ve had a severe illness, and last year I started to get better. I still had a horrible memory and anything distracted me. I was trying to order a meal and I had an asshole for a waiter. I compossed sentences slowly at the time, and the asshole kept distracting me, and then I’d use a filler word of Um, while I tried to think of a word. He’d then say um like I wouldn’t notice. Once again it distracts me and I have to try to think of what I needed to say, and asshole would go um again. It was so hard not to deck him. I let the manager know when I left and made sure the servey I had to turn into the main office with his employee number, mentioned the mocking. Asshole.
My “tipping point”, as it were, for restaurant service is my water glass. I like to drink water while I eat, along with whatever other beverage I’ve ordered. When my water glass gets half full, I’ll put it near the edge of the table, so it can be more easily noticed and filled. Works like a charm, usually.
There have been some notable examples when it didn’t work. In those cases, if my water glass gets empty, and no-one fills it, I’ll get up, go to the beverage station, and get a water pitcher. I’ll fill my glass, and anyone else nearby who asks, then I’ll put the water pitcher on the table so I can keep my own glass full.
I did this at Tavern on the Green (in Central Park), and they just about freaked out – some poor schlub ended up holding a pitcher and refilling my glass every time I took a sip. I left a nice tip.
At Anthony’s (Richland, WA) last weekend, I did this, and no-one cared. They’d also inexplicably left 1 wineglass on the table, after not even asking if we wanted wine. The service was mediocre, other than the poor water delivery. The food was ok, but mrs. danalan didn’t like her fish. Had a talk with the waitress and the manager. They just didn’t care. Word to the wise, if you’re in the area. No tip for them.
We were in the process of moving to our new house, I was dead tired, and we just wanted to eat some dinner and get on with it. We went to the nearest casual dining chain restaurant, which happened to be offering a special called the pot roast sandwich. This sounded pretty good, mmm comfort food. When it came to the table, the bread was really burned. Plenty of black char on it. Yukk! I asked the waitress to take it back, it really wasn’t the kind of thing you’d pay $8 or so to eat in that condition. It came back. They had **scraped ** the burned parts off the bread. I could not believe it! If that’s what the world is coming to, I’d just as soon scrape it off myself, thankyouverymuch. So I had our waitress call the manager over, explained the situation to him, and he took the sandwich back to the kitchen. When it came back this time - deee-licious. What is amazing is that, in addition to the perfectly toasted bread, the sandwich now looked exactly like the beautiful picture on the menu!
We have also had a waitress quit in mid-meal and a still-frozen solid duck a l’orange.
The absolute worst thing that ever happened to me in a resturant was when Hubby and I went to that revolving resturant above Niagra Falls. The resturant was virtually empty, yet the hostess chose to seat another couple at our table. It was one of the most awkward social situations I’ve ever endured.
“What did you do?” people always ask me when I tell this story. Well, we didn’t do anything, honestly. I was so flabbergasted that I was paralyzed by it. All I could do is smile awkwardly at the couple and stare at my plate. We couldn’t even make small talk because the couple spoke no English.
Worst meal I ever had.
there was a typical “diner” near where I used to work. Quotes because they were a reasonably modern establishment, but the menu was obviously intended to replicate a 1940-50 diner. Actually really good food.
One day, me and a co-worker…nice guy but hopelessly stupid…go there for lunch. Service was fine, food up to the usual great standard etc. But the witress doesn’t bring our check. I’m facing the kitchen, so I signal her several times. Each time, I get the “Sure thing, give me a second and I’ll be right there” signal back.
Finally, after like 10 minutes, we decide to go to the register (at this place you normally take the check your waitress brings you up to the register to pay) and ask for our check, as we need to be getting back to work (I’m pretty sure we had a meeting schedualed).
Waitress stops us on our way to the register and appologizes profusly…“I just don’t know what happened, the kitchen must have lost your order…it will be up in a few seconds!”
“Ummmmm, we got our food…it was great…we just needed our check”
“…oh…Well, let me box them up and you can have them for dinner…don’t tell the manager or I’ll get in trouble.”
“Ummm, well, good as your food is, it would be kind of overkill to have the same thing for lunch and dinner”
“No, please, I’ll get in trouble”
Note, this is a 40 something, very efficient waitress, not some highschool girl who just THINKS she is going to get in trouble.
“OK…I guess we can trade boxes (fortunatly had not ordered same thing)”
Waitress starts boxing up our bonus meals.
Manager sees her doing it, and inquires.
Can’t hear animated explaination.
Manager brings us our boxes, appolgizes, and comps our meal…Ummm, make that
two meals. each.
So the choice is, Take the two free meals (each) OR get thenice, matronly, waitress ( peering fearfully around the corner) in trouble…now both for screwing up, AND (we assume) lying to the owner about it.
So, we walked out with our boxes feeling kind of dirty.
I went back there a couple of times, but it always felt wierd.
Now the truly ethical thing to do would have been to refuse the waitresses offer to box the meals.
But she BEGGED!
Please let me know where you work. I’ll never be a customer.
Bob
For us it worked the other way - instead of the story being “amarinth is really, really picky,” it was “the people at ________ are scary, don’t go there again.”
I can see that. For me it was very much like the time I ordered steak tartare and didn’t like it because it was raw. The menu said it was raw, I knew it was raw, I was trying to branch out and try a new food and it didn’t work because, as it turns out, I don’t like raw meat. That, however, got eaten because I was splitting it with friends, enough of whom do.