I think I may have posted this before, but whatever… sorry for the length!
I was a waitress at a private golf club many years ago. This was a place where members could come and go as they pleased, but non-members had to be sponsored and signed up by members, and generally had to be with them most of the time. There was a full service kitchen and dining room, but the menu changed every night on the whim/available ingredients of the chef. On any given night there was probably about 3-5 entrées and 5-6 main dishes. There were a few rooms to let, and this is a story about a non-member who came to visit.
On the day he arrived, he was, apparently very rude to the receptionist. I wasn’t there at the time, but upon recounting my interaction with him, she proceeded to rant about how he treated her like a moron because she dared to even ask him his name as he arrived ("I’m sorry sir, but there are 400 members here, many of whom bring guests, and we cannot be expected to know the names of any and all acquaintances they may have!)
That evening, he sits down to dinner, and looks over the menu and calls me over. He asks if the soup had dairy products in it. “Crème de brocoli? Yes sir, there’s cream in it” Oh, well, he couldn’t have that!
“What about [insert every menu item here]?”
Some of them I happened to know, and others I didn’t, so I offered to go ask the chef about the ingredients in the menu. His answer?
“Of course you should! I’m deathly allergic to milk and dairy, I can’t even have butter in a pastry, you should already know if anything on this menu will kill me if I eat it!”
“Sorry, sir, I wasn’t made aware of your allergy, I will go speak to the chef and ensure that he can prepare something for you that is dairy free.”
He grumbles some insult at me (i didn’t really hear it, but the tone of voice was clear) as I walked to the kitchen.
“Hey, J-C, the guest with the severe dairy allergy has questions about the menu items!”
“What guest with the severe dairy allergy?!?!?!?!”
The idiot didn’t bother to let anyone know about this until sitting down at the table (even mentioning something when he checked in would have been enough time to sort something out!) I mean, if eating a drop of dairy product might KILL YOU, you’d think you’d be intelligent enough to do anything possible to avoid coming into contact with the stuff, right? Particularly when you’re going to a dining room with a French chef! Especially a crazy French chef going through a midlife crisis, but that’s another thread!
As it happens, everything on the menu either had dairy in it, or couldn’t be guaranteed to have not come into contact with any. That’s just how it is. This particular kitchen (due to the needs of members) was ridiculously diligent about separating fish and seafood from other meats/items, and offered gluten free items, but being a private dining room, there had never been any need to avoid dairy before. Seriously, how many kitchens do?!?! How many FRENCH kitchens!?
Anyways, JC told me to come back in 10 minutes, he’d figure something out, just go take the orders for the rest of the table and take care of the other tables I was serving.
Upon hearing this news, the idiot guest called me an “incompetent waitress” (yes sir, I am clearly incompetent for having failed to psychically guess your secret food allergy and then arranging to still make sure you had something to eat). When JC finally told me he could offer a choice of two items (both good, but nowhere near the quality of the other menu items), the idiot guest chose one, insulted me again, and ranted about how the service was terrible because he couldn’t give his order at the same time as everyone else (once again sir, I’m sorry I couldn’t read your mind; I’m all out of magic telepathy powder, you see!)
And just to make this more stressful, this was on an evening with an unexpected thunderstorm, the power went out on the adjacent member-owned properties, so instead of only having the expected table of 10 (with the idiot) and one table of 2, we ended up with nearly 100 people to serve in 2 hours, the manager was away, and the only other waitress was on her first day as a waitress ever, there was only one chef (the sous-chef had his day off) and one dishwasher to handle the kitchen. Lucky for the kitchen, one of the weekly meat deliveries had been that very day, or we would have had to send people away!
Everyone else praised our work and understood that service was perhaps a little less prompt than usual, but the idiot ranted the entire evening about how he could have died by eating anything there, how the service was too slow and he expected personal service at such a fancy club (not actually fancy - think more golf cottage getaway!) and how dare the manager take a day off when he was visiting? It’s not like this man was famous or anything - he just was some rich guy’s nephew.
The idiot was a nightmare the rest of the week, too, but at least we knew what to offer him for food, and the kitchen went out of their way to come up with great menu items. He never thanked anyone for that.