On Career Guests: Outrageous Demands and Refusals

           The science of quantum physics tells us that it is indeed possible for to guest to walk into a Kentucky Fried Chicken and ask for a turkey sandwich. If you think this is outrageous, food service tells us it’s possible for that guest to return the next day with an uncooked turkey and request that it be cooked “with your special chicken seasoning.”

In a surprising new study by specialists in Oakland, this is even more likely to occur than all the molecules in a rock arranging themselves in the same direction and then jumping straight up in the air. Further studies have shown, however, that the likelihood of these sociopathic behavioral patterns among guests may be directly related to the guest’s career.

 

Example 1: Graphic Designers or Really Anyone with a Fake Creative Job

            “Are we all set?” you ask the table of two, setting down their sweet teas.

            “Hmmmm…” says one man, drumming his fingers on the table. “Well, you know I really like the sound of this Chicken Sandwich. Could you tell me a little about it?”

            “Oh sure,” you say. You bend down and point to the description beneath “Chicken Sandwich”. “Chicken Sandwich” you read, “slathered with sweet and sticky bar-b-que, piled high with coleslaw and little frilly lettuce shreds, and slammed angrily onto a toasted bun by someone you really don’t want to ever meet. Then stabbed with a cute little pointless toothpick and served on a plate. With some French fries.”

 

            “Ahhh. Well, I have a few questions,” the man announces. “Instead of coleslaw, could you put potato salad on that? I don’t typically tend to enjoy cabbage.”

            “Sure!” you say, scribbling.

“And instead of frilly lettuce shreds….hmmm, well could I get, like, one extra French fry? I know I’m already having French fries, and I don’t really want to substitute anything for the lettuce, but if I could maybe just have one extra French fry, that would be great.”

You nod and write down, “Kittens, rainbows, happy place,”

 

“Oh and I don’t want the potato salad piled high necessarily. If you could maybe put it on an angle? You know what I mean? A sort of…” Here he demonstrates what he means by ‘angle’ by slanting one hand in front of your face. “Oh, and instead of a toothpick in the sandwich, could you put it on the side so that I can use it later? I don’t really understand the idea of trying to pick your teeth with something that already has food on it, you know?”

 “Uhhh—“

 

“Oh and if you have an olive spear instead of a toothpick, that’d be even better. I am terribly afraid of splinters. Also, how sticky is the bar-b-que? I’m kind of a textures guy, you know, I have this terror of maple syrup, it’s pretty much why I don’t eat pancakes anymore. If you were going to compare the bar-b-que sauce to maple syrup, would you say that’s it’s more or less sticky? Also, would it be cheaper if we carved out the inside of the bun, so maybe I just have the bun shell, or maybe vice versa? Texture wise, does one sound better to you than the other? I don’t know.”

 Example 2: Lonely Office Women

            Every day at 1:45, she comes in and orders a “regular burger” mid rare, no lettuce, just tomato and onion, with mayo on the side and ketchup with her fries.

            She is not the sort of gal to demand “the usual”, like some sort of unspontaneous buzz kill, oh no, every day she looks you straight in the eyes, and repeats, “I think what I’d like is one of your hamburgers, maybe medium rare. And no lettuce please. Thank you so much.”

            One day, however, she comes in looking rather wan.

            “How are you?” you ask brightly.

            “Well, I am feeling a bit under the weather today,” she says anxiously, parting and unparting her lips. “I think I’d like to mix it up a little.”

            “Oh, well we have a lot of amazing new salads,” you say. “There’s a new barley salad that will run right through you like a Swiss train. Clean ya right out.”

“No,” she says. “I think I’ll just have your hamburger, maybe medium rare. With no lettuce.”

You blink twice.

“ But I would like the tomato and the onion and the bun on the side.” she says.

“Oh.” you say. “So exactly the same thing you had yesterday except…"

 

"Arranged in the shape of a smile." she says.

 

Your head snaps up, you look her in the eyes. She is not smiling.

 

"Oh-oh-okay, yeah. So maybe two tomatoes on either side of the burger, maybe two pieces of onion acting as eyeballs."

 

"Yes, you can understand now why I have no use for the lettuce," she says, locking eyes with you.

 

"Yes, it is becoming clear now," you say, backing away. "Uh....maybe the mayo dollop can be the nose?"

 

She only stares now.

 

"Okay! Okay, no lettuce, mayo, uh, got it, coming back soon, haha! Okay!"

 

Rejection and Schizophrenia Among Wait Staff

                  

            Clinical trials have proven that schizophrenia in wait staff occurs in approximately 9 out of 10 servers over the age of 24 and a half years old. This disorder manifests itself in the form of exploding at guests in a saucy black woman voice, making fun of guests by repeating them in a small munchkin voice, and winking saucily at small children after asking if they’d like another strawberry lemonade. This disorder has been proven, in labs across the country, to be born from rejection.

             Example 1: Aw Hell No

“Tonight’s special” you announce to your table of five, “ is our Bullhorn Grabbin Ranch Saucy Sauce Lemon Lickin salmon, lightly scented with po pourri, tempered with hints of thyme, pounded with ranch dust and then, for 45 minutes, sautéed in the spicy rare blood of our Lord and topped with a single sesame seed.” You pause and then continue in the voice of a commercial casually mentioning side effects, “Served with a Vanilla Ranch milk shake and a moon pie.” 

            You all sit in silence for a moment (you breathless and proud, the guests simply stunned), before telling them you’ll “let that sink in for a second” before you return for their “final decision”.

            You walk back to the kitchen, maybe giving out high fives or even thumbs ups to the rest of the wait staff as the restaurant echoes with “lemon lickin…” and “single sesame seed…” Regardless of your gender, hair has suddenly sprouted on your chest.   

After five minutes, you return to the table, smiling smugly. You even take the time to wink at each member of the table individually, which takes another full minute.   

            “Have you all had a chance to think about what I said—earlier?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

             “Um, can I just have the hamburger?” asks one woman.

            A roaring starts in your ears and you feel the blood rushing into your face.

            “Naw bitch you can’t have no fucking HAMBURGER. If you could have had a hamburger, I would have TOLD you you could have a hamburger. What do you think this shit is, fucking CANADA? Fucking PAKISTAN?”

            “Seriously,” murmurs the rest of the wait staff, standing behind you with their arms crossed.       

            Her husband raises a hand as if to defend her, “I’m sorry, I really don’t see what Canada and Pakistan have in common…? Also, weren’t you just white a minute ago…?”

Example 2: Deaf People

            You are chatting with the hostess by the door, and by chatting, of course I mean describing the nightmare of waiting on people from Canada or even Pakistan. Out of the corner of your eye, you see two guests get up from their bar stools, put on coats and head towards you.

            You swirl at attention, immediately ending your conversation. You have never seen these people in your life, and probably never will again.

            “You all have a wonderful evening!” you say, smiling widely. Of course there is something strange about saying this to people you will probably never see again. Why not, ‘Have a wonderful rest of your life!’ or ‘Vote McAuliffe this year!’

             The guests do not reply, and you realize this may be because they were too far away or maybe, like you, also wondering about the phrase about the wonderful evening. They’ve just reached the host stand, they’re now directly in front of you.

            So you try again, “Yeah, like I said earlier, have a good one!....Thanks for coming guys, it’s been a pleasure!..... An absolute pleasure…all our pleasure, to have you come here…”

             Silence.

You turn to the host, lips parted in shock. “Did they just…? I’m pretty sure they just…”

            The hostess squeezes your hand, “Don’t worry about it. It happens to me all the time.”

            You wrench away from her, “BYE GUYS!” you scream. “I hope you have fun!” You run around the host stand and trot after them. “Have a great night! Enjoy the rest of your summer, go swimming or something, it’s gonna be GREAT, have fun doing that, I really hope you have the funest time of any guest I’ve ever waited on because it’s been a fucking pleasure, what’d you eat a fucking hamburger—” The munchkin voice is on full force—“oh can I just have a hamburger and maybe a chocolate milk, can you make the fries crispy I like crispy fries, only the crispiest for me, I bet you like crispy fries—”

             The hostess, encouraged by your bravado, has begun pelting toothpicks at the two deaf people, and screaming out “BYE!” over and over again, also in a munchkin voice.        

           You stop and cross your arms as the guests flee.