Sure I'll chop your salad, if you toss mine...

What gets into people that makes them behave so badly at restaurants? To make them treat servers like servants? Never, ever would I even think of acting the way some of these people do and that was even before I was in the business.
We had a busy lunch today. I had two servers on the floor and myself. It got to the point where I started taking names to make a waiting list for tables. Two ladies were waiting, eventually they were seated and their order was taken.
Now, another concept I don't get. Why do people order things that are not on the menu. If you don't like my menu, perhaps you are in the wrong place. I have a lot of nice salads on my menu. A little variation here and there and of course, we will work with you. I think shrimp on a Caesar salad is disgusting but I'll do it for you.
These ladies wanted chopped salad. Chopped salad is something I don't get either- I think that they are hard to eat and that if the lettuce is prepped ahead you end up with a lot of waste because it goes bad quickly. So the server takes the order, explains to the kitchen, they chop and send it out.
Where's all the stuff? The ladies want to know. It needs more stuff.
The server takes it back to the very busy kitchen to get more "stuff". The whole place is still hopping. And on those days folks, please do not ask your server for something else every time they bring you something. Try to ask for it all at once. You are not the only customer in the joint.
They needed water, they needed this, they needed that. And the salad still was not right. The server was my hot-blooded Venezuelan who had hit her limit and said to me I had to take them or she was going to blow. The other server, the young man who though he makes a lot of sarcastic comments under his breath can put on a good face, went over to the ladies. They complained about the other server, they complained about the food, about waiting and sent those salads back again.
Frantic he goes back to the kitchen with the two salads. The kitchen takes them, gets out a cleaver and chops the hell out of these two salads. Puts more "stuff" on them. Chops the "stuff" again. Everyone says a prayer that these two bitches start stuffing the greens down their gullets.
I stayed away. All I seem to do is put out fires. I am fantasizing about taking a vacation in the near future. So as a test, I am starting to pull back just a little. This was not a case where we screwed up. When that happens I always fix it, usually by comping them. Not this time. No comp. They ordered something that we don't offer, they alienated everyone who tried to help them, and they were just overall impossible. I love my customers, each and every one of them. If it weren't for them there would be no business. But sometimes, they go too far. And as I said, you want a chopped salad? Sure, but if you make trouble I'll make you toss mine.

Gotcha!!

I was ready for him.
One of my spies told me that he had been circling the restaurant on Monday, when we were closed.
For the past two months I have been terrorized by health inspectors. Every time I turned around there was another one. Last week a woman from the state came, the department of consumer protection. I had a dream one night about cockroaches because that's what these people were like. They kept crawling out from everywhere.
And I am one of the cleanest places in town. It was making me crazy.
Since I had the heads up I knew he was coming for his re-inspection. The man in the white coat And yes, he actually wore a white coat to draw extra attention to himself as he showed up in the middle of lunch service.
He had his clipboard, and I had mine.
"Helloooooooooooo", I said ever so warmly. "Please come right this way". This after I had done a quick run-through- "TW- put your hat on!, You- throw the box away, Pop- STAY OUT OF THE WAY!!!!"
"So", I said calmly, "Let's go through the list". And one by one I showed him everything that he had checked off and how I had addressed it. Everything. I had signed papers from each of my staff stating that they had been trained in food safety, I had my sanitizer strips ready, my sanitizer solution had been bumped up, Everyone was wearing a friggin' hat and every single thing had been corrected and then some.
What could he do?
He gave me a 98 out of 100. The sanitizer bucket behind the front counter showed that the solution was a little weak.
HA!!!
That's nothing.
I fought The Man, and this time I won!