Someone sent me a picture last week (Theresa, maybe? Thank you.) and it jogged my memory of some bitch in my station years ago. Sometimes restaurants run out of things. We don’t plan it, we don’t like it and we don’t do it on purpose. But sometimes shit happens and you run out of meatloaf or something. A lady ordered a Cobb salad. I had to let her know that we were out of avocado so if that was going to ruin the whole aesthetic of her salad, then maybe she should order something else. Well the lack of avocado was not okay with her. “You’re out of avocado? How can you be out of avocado? Aren’t you a restaurant? I don’t understand how someone could let that happen.” What I didn’t understand was how not getting avocado in a salad was anything other than no big deal. Had I told her we had run out of oxygen and we were on our last breaths, sure. Or maybe if we were out of water, that would be weird. But avocado? Move on, guacamole ho. I patiently waited for her to let me know if she wanted the salad sans avocado or if she would order something else and then I realized that her “how could this happen?” question was actual and not rhetorical. She stared at me waiting for a response.
“Uh, you know how sometimes at home you run out of milk even though you don’t mean to? Maybe more people ate cereal than usual and then you baked a cake which took a lot of milk and before you knew it, you were out of it? That happens in restaurants too. I guess more people ordered guacamole than usual, so we ran out of avocados. That’s how someone let it happen.”
She grunted with dissatisfaction and then mentioned that there was grocery store nearby. Like I am going to hop skip and jump over there to get her a freakin’ avocado. No, lady. If you are so familiar with the location of the grocery store, then maybe you should go there, buy the avocado along with everything else that you want in your goddamn salad and then go home and make it your fucking self. We’re out of avocados so fucking deal with. It’s not the end of the fucking world.
Another time a lady ordered a Chinese chicken salad which had been taken off the menu. She gasped when I told her. “Oh. My. God. I loved that salad. How horrible is that??” She looked like she was gonna cry. This was a few weeks after 9/11. I paused. “You know, in the scope of world events recently, I would say it’s not horrible at all. You want something else?” She shut up. Bitch ordered a Cobb. We had avocado that day.
a2a_linkname=”The Bitchy Waiter”;a2a_linkurl=”http://thebitchywaiter.blogspot.com”;