Imagine a world where aprons are armor, name tags are badges of honor, and the daily specials board holds secrets more mysterious than any ancient scroll. Each tale is a testament to the resilience, wit, and sometimes sheer stubbornness of those who serve with a smile (or at least try to) amidst chaos, confusion, and the occasional culinary catastrophe.
A group of customers left me no tip tonight and told me why. I’ve been a server for various points throughout my life since I was 16, and I am 29 now. Usually I would serve or host as a part time job, but currently my only job is being a server. I had 3 guys come in that 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 that mostly to be funny. The first couple of guys told me they didn’t want shots, but they would be ordering beers. Then the last guy told me he would need a few shots if I was going to be his server. I chuckled, I thought we were joking and went and got their drinks. They ordered their food, a few more beers, 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 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. 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 make up, or going to a gym. I am just being honest with you, if a guy wanted to f**ck 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 it. 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 times almost every day this week- but I don’t take it personal and I try to still always hold my head up-but that really hurt. Sorry for the wall of text. Needed to get this rant out.
A group of customers left me no tip tonight and told me why. I’ve been a server for various points throughout my life since I was 16, and I am 29 now. Usually I would serve or host as a part time job, but currently my only job is being a server. I had 3 guys come in that 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 that mostly to be funny. The first couple of guys told me they didn’t want shots, but they would be ordering beers. Then the last guy told me he would need a few shots if I was going to be his server. I chuckled, I thought we were joking and went and got their drinks. They ordered their food, a few more beers, 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 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. 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 make up, or going to a gym. I am just being honest with you, if a guy wanted to f**ck 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 it. 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 times almost every day this week- but I don’t take it personal and I try to still always hold my head up-but that really hurt. Sorry for the wall of text. Needed to get this rant out.
Dude gets exactly what he asked for. Last night I worked a 14 top. They were all terrible people, douchiest people I have ever come in contact with. The royal family of Douchland. One guy sits down and orders a beer. He says, “Every time you come to the table I want you to have a beer for me.” I thought he was probably just joking, so I leave and come back and he says, “Where is my beer? Did you really forget what I told you like 2 minutes ago? Wow.” So I said, “OH! I am so sorry it won’t happen again.” So, for the next 2 hours, no matter what. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I approached the table I left a beer. After about 45 minutes the beer began to pile up. A friend of King Doucherbottom tried to take one that I put down, but I grabbed it and said, “Sorry sir, this is your friends beer I would be happy to get one for you if you like.” Long story short he ended up buying 25 beers at 8 dollars a pop with a 20% mandatory auto-grat on the table. He maybe drank 4. I have never felt so good in my life. It doesn’t pay to be an arrogant ass folks!
Table tried to dine and dash but I came out and did their birthday shout out right in time. My manager was a server on the floor tonight and had a large group that swallowed two of our tables. They brought their OWN cake and OWN ice cream and we kept it cool for them in our fridge. They sent her to retrieve it and she does. I grabbed our saddle and dragged it over and they were suddenly ALL standing up some people had left. It was definitely sus as s**t but whatevs. Doesn’t matter. The show must go on, of course birthday person doesn’t want to sit on the saddle so I do it and do the birthday song and dance. Call him out by name and just draw a large amount of attention to him. It was awkward of course. THEY STILL TRY TO LEAVE. and my manager luckily notices and gives the mom her check and doesn’t leave her side. Not only were they using the cake and ice cream as a diversion to escape but the MOTHER was in on it. She tried to stall her payment hoping my manager would get busy and leave her with the bill as if we are not all aware of their intent by now. Safe to say we will probably not be seeing them again.
I’m f**king livid. We close at 8pm on sundays. 7:45pm Phone call: “hey I see it says you guys close at 8 but if we have 10-12 people could you stay open for us” Me: “I’ll have to ask the chef for you one second” I know I should have just said F**K NO but I have to run everything by the chef (owner) and he tells me to tell them yes (F**K). Me: Yeah no problem A**holes: okay we should be there around 8:30 Me: ..okay” So I put a bunch of f**king tables together and pour all their waters and put menus on their tables. 8:45 They call back and tell us they aren’t coming. FIRST OFF, WHO THE F**K CALLS A RESTAURANT AND ASKS THEM TO STAY OPEN FOE THEM. THEN YOU HAVE THE F**KING AUDACITY TO CANCEL???????!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WILL F**KING CUT YOU
About a week ago, I (20F) had a two-top come in for some burgers. They barely touched the food, but every time I asked if everything was okay with their food, they said yes. When they left, they tipped me $0. A few days after, we got a one-star review from these people complaining about the food, and the fact that we charged them full-price. Why couldn’t they have spoken up? I would’ve fixed it and gotten them something else — it was just so frustrating.
About a week ago, I (20F) had a two-top come in for some burgers. They barely touched the food, but every time I asked if everything was okay with their food, they said yes. When they left, they tipped me $0. A few days after, we got a one-star review from these people complaining about the food, and the fact that we charged them full-price. Why couldn’t they have spoken up? I would’ve fixed it and gotten them something else — it was just so frustrating.
A husband divorced his wife at my table.This was in 2018, but I still think about it often and just had to share.Had a couple come in who seemed really happy, they were having their first date night since they had a baby and wife was really excited to finally have a reason to get a sitter.They ordered drinks, an app, and their meals. Things seemed to be going well at first but as the night progressed things seemed to take a turn. Subtle things like started off holding hands across the table but stopped by the time drinks were out. Weren’t as chatty by the time the salads were out.By the time I brought their meals out, there was an orange envelope on the table next to the guy with his wedding ring on it. She was sobbing. He said he’d take his in a to-go box and the checks would be separate.He left as soon as his tab was paid, and she ended up telling me he apparently had been having an affair since she got pregnant and just told her he was leaving to start a life with his new family. The envelope had the divorce paperwork in it. She said he completely blindsided her, she had no idea this was coming.My manager ended up comping her ticket and paying for an Uber to take her home. Never saw her again, but I always think about that situation and hope her and the kid are alright.
Warning: Jokes not to tell your table.2-top. Husband and wife. Both wearing camouflage.I walk by the table, pass them, come back and say, “Whoa. Barely even saw you two!”I was not tipped.
“We don’t care about reservations. We’re hungry and we’re going to eat.” So last night was probably the busiest night we’ve had for 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 usual protocol from the GM. Well, this particular couple had me FUMING beyond belief during our peak hour of the night. 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 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 at my section a booth over. This couple walked in to the restaurant, saw the amount of people waiting for a table, and decided to seat themselves with NO reservation. They also sat at a dirty f**king table, and here I’m thinking “are these people for real?” This is what I got between 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 found out what reservation you had?” “We don’t have reservations. Someone needs to clean this s**t up.” pointing at 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 damn table! I’m not asking a third time!” After that failure, the hostess looked at me pretty shaken up. She never dealt with any guests THAT rude and upfront before so it was understandable. With my Latina blood boiling, I went over to the a**holes. “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 squaked at me demanding I get them drinks while I went straight to my GM who saw what had already happened with the hostess. They were escorted out and were told they weren’t welcome back. This is the type of s**t 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 f**king do it. If not, go to another restaurant.
“Sit me with your hottest WHITE server!” *Sits him with our only male server, a tall, black, bodybuilder*It was a group of middle aged guys. They’re regulars, but they’re annoying as hell, and they always ask for the hottest server. As a host, i usually just sit them with whoever. The last time they came in, I sat them with D, a really sweet black girl who’s one of our best servers. They were FURIOUS. They never said anything to me or a manager, but they claimed everything was wrong. The food was too cold. The drinks were flat. She was way too slow. She was rude. They left a 25¢ tip and left not long after.This time, they specified they wanted a hot WHITE server. I said “okay!” and with a smile, I walked them over to their table. I specifically sat them with the only male server, a tall, black, bodybuilder who towered over all of them. He’s a really cool guy, but he can be slightly intimidating to people that don’t know him just due to his stature.They never said a word.
Karen tries to customize her own dish, doesn’t like it, chef comes out, rips her a new one, and forces her to pay for it. (not my story, paraphrased with permission from a coworker) Karen and her family come into a family-owned local seafood eatery, and she’s immediately disappointed that they don’t carry her favorite seasonal dish (mango-papaya mahi mahi), which needs to be explained to her. She says it’s the only reason she came and insists they make something as close to it as possible. After much haranguing and cross-communication, the chef settles on a tilapia with mango salsa as the closest compromise. After the food is delivered, Karen takes one bite and decides, “No, it just doesn’t taste the same. I think I’ll just have pasta instead.” The server brings the plate back to the kitchen, and the chef is f**kin livid. He storms out and slams the plate back in front of her and goes off, “We bent over backwards in the kitchen to accommodate you! This is the only dish you’re getting tonight, and you’re paying for it!” It must have done the trick, because she just accepted her fate. She and the husband switched plates, and apparently he thought it tasted awesome. They paid out and that was that. On their way out, Karen asked when they would have the mango-papaya mahi mahi again, to which it had to be explained a third time what “seasonal” means.
My wife and I were out to eat last night, and overheard customers at the next table harassing their server about whether he knew Jesus, and tried to get him to agree to go to church. He was non-committal, and said he never found much ‘connection’ with religion. But, they kept at him for a long time — inside, I bet he was screaming that he had other tables to get to. I loved his parting words, though: ‘If your soup is cold by now, let me know if you’d like to order a fresh one!’
There was a man who made a reservation for two people, but wrote in the notes the reservation was actually for six people and a baby. I contacted him and let him know that wasn’t possible during the evening, and offered alternative times for the party of six. He never responded. Cut to an hour before service, and this man called the restaurant to let me know his party was now going to be eight people and that they were 10 minutes away. I nicely explained we weren’t opened yet and couldn’t accommodate his party. He kept asking if I could ‘do’ anything for him, but he wouldn’t accept no for an answer. Now, it’s 20 minutes before we open, and he showed up with his entourage and demanded that I sit them upstairs (I had already said NO). He kept saying: ‘Can’t you do anything for me? It’s my nephew’s baptism’ or whatever the F. Then, he tried to threaten me they’d go somewhere else to eat, so I politely advised them where to go nearby. This didn’t work, and he tried again to get me to ‘do something’ for him. I explained that seating his party would require that I cancel other reservations, and I wasn’t willing to do that. So, we went back and forth like this a few times, and he eventually left in a huff. I don’t understand why people behave this way. Why the hell would you make a reservation for two because that’s ‘the only party size that was available?!’
I’m making children suffer. 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 4 pizzas for delivery. 3 of them were double pepperoni pizzas which take way longer than you would think. I tell her that it will take about 1 1/2 – 2 hours for delivery. This lady starts asking what the f**k is up with that wait time, and I explain what I said before about 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 f**king 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 hasn’t put in her order, and I can’t help make anything as I’m on the phone. My manager knows this. He comes over to the phone, takes it from me. Asks the problem and 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!
This took place a few years ago in the heat of the pandemic. I worked at a popular pub in a big town, and we were careful to space out everything, sanitize heavily, and wear masks. Enter the guests: It was a man, his wife, and his daughter. They took their seats, and I approached them with my typical greetings. They ordered some drinks, and I asked the daughter for her ID — she sank a little and said: ‘I forgot it at home’ (which was code for ‘I’m a minor’). I apologized and said that I couldn’t serve her, and the parents were aghast. ‘Really?! She’s with her parents! She can’t have a drink? I can vouch that she’s of age.’ ‘I’m sorry, folks — I legally can’t serve her without proof.’ The man scoffed and smirked at me while reaching for his wallet. He asked: ‘This mean anything to you?’ while flashing his cop badge.This guy really tried to extort me for a beer for his underage daughter. ‘No, that doesn’t mean anything to me,’ I replied. ‘Really? Nothing? Pull down that mask and let me see your face.’ ‘I’m sorry, sir — we’re in a pandemic with a mask mandate, and we take that seriously here.’ ‘Jesus, you got a manager I can talk to?’I walked away and told my boss what happened. I watched from afar as the man waved his hands around, his wife sat in disbelief, and the daughter was red of embarrassment.The rest of the meal was awkward — the parents were fuming, and the daughter seemed like she wanted nothing more than to leave. The cop asked me questions like what my name was, who my parents were, and what part of town I lived in — but I avoided answering anything personal. As expected, no tip.
Nightmare customer tries to build their own off-menu pasta dish then gets upset when charged full price. Being a picky eater is fine, but at minimum you have to work within the confines of what’s actually available. Enter one stubborn hole who took the menu items not as a suggestion, but as a point of negotiation. “I’m looking at the pastas. Do you have any rotini?” “Uhh, no. Just spaghetti, rigatoni, fettucine, penne, and bowtie pasta, I believe. That page has all the available pasta dishes we serve.” “Hmm, well you should carry rotini. But I’ll start with fettucine base, and I’d like to add bolognese… mushrooms… basil… bell p–” “I’m sorry to cut you off sir, but we don’t offer build-your-own pastas. We only offer what’s listed on the menu, and I can make a couple modifications.” “Well that’s ridiculous. If you have the items, you should be able to make it.” “It’s restaurant policy. It helps the kitchen flow.” He stares angrily at me. “Well then I’m gonna need a minute.” (No problem, bud. I hadn’t even asked if your table was ready to order before you started firing away anyway.) I talk to the kitchen manager to give him a heads up, and he doubles down on not allowing grand modifications. I return after a few, and this guy’s body language tells me he’s already prepared an opening statement for the courtroom. “Okay so I’m gonna start with the chicken alfredo, but instead of the cream sauce, I want bolognese, no tomatoes, I want extra mushrooms, add basil, bell peppers, no parmigiono, and instead of chicken I want the fresh cod.” “Uhh sir, I can only do a couple substitutions, and our fresh cod is a separate dish entirely.” “Look, please talk to your kitchen, it’s what I want.” This guy seemed like he was just trying to really impress his friends, who all looked pretty mortified. I find the kitchen manager again. He shakes his head and goes, “Alright, well ring in both a pasta bolognese and fresh fish of the day.” $42 pasta. Bravo, buddy. The table gets their food, and this guy flashes me the most idiotic smirk like he just got one over on us. “See? That wasn’t so hard. And by the way, it’s delicious! You should think about adding it to your menu!” This self-satisfied piece of work… They finally get the bill, and this dude’s face is priceless — well, there definitely was a price to his expression — about $42. “Did you really charge me for two entrees?” “Yes, I told you the cod was a separate dish.” He didn’t have much room to argue there. Thankfully his friend paid and left a fat tip, probably out of vicarious embarrassment.
Them: ‘We’ll have a bottle of rosé.’ The server: ‘I’m sorry, but we just sold the last chilled bottle.’ Them: ‘I see some on the counter.’ The server: ‘Yes, but it’s not chilled — it’s the display bottle, and it won’t taste great. May I suggest this chilled macerated white wine that’ll give you a similar flavor profile, but taste much better?’ Them: ‘Ugh, orange wine?!? Gross. Just bring that display bottle of rosé and a bucket of ice, and it’ll cool down fast enough.’ The server coming to me, the owner: ‘That bottle won’t cool down like they think.’ Me, to the server: ‘You’re right, but give it to them anyway…’ [An hour later]: Them: ‘You don’t have to take it off the bill, but this rosé is terrible. It tastes like a wine cooler, and it’s warm.’ The server, screaming on the inside but smiling on the outside: ‘I understand.’ The server to me: ‘I F**KING TOLD THEM.’ Me to the server: ‘Leave that s**t on the bill.’
Do people even listen to what comes out of their mouths?A guest walks into brunch and orders our smoked salmon plate. The only dairy in this particular dish is a ramekin of cream cheese that is served on the side.A couple minutes later I’m in the kitchen getting coffee for another table. I turn around and smoked salmon lady has followed me to the kitchen.When I turn around and see her, I ask “Is there something you need?”She says, “I forgot I’m not eating dairy, so can I change my order to the buttermilk pancakes?”Confused at what I just heard, I ask “The buttermilk pancakes? There is dairy in the pancakes…”“Well as long as it’s not a lot it’s ok.”Lady….. it’s like the main ingredient. It’s in the name. BUTTERMILK pancakes. Do people really listen to the stupidity that comes out of their face holes??? I can’t.
“Please, no mayo. I’m allergic to mayonnaise.”Between my husband and a woman at his table last night—“Okay, ma’am, now is it the egg or the oil we need to be worried about?”“…it’s the combination.”“…okay. I’ll alert the kitchen.”I love this industry so much.