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Not sure if you’re still accepting stories or not, but I had to tell you about our latest pizza-getting episode.  My husband and I love a particular style of pizza from a well known company.  This style is frequently advertised as being one of their most popular.  There are a few locations in town, only one being close enough to deliver to us.  We called the closer location only to be told that they did not have any more of this type crust.  (This has happened at least four times, and we call early in the evening, not minutes before closing or anything.  The last time, the person on the phone told us that the manager was cheap and never wanted to pre-order too many of any of the crusts, so they were always running short.) 

No biggie, we decided to go to another location that couldn’t deliver, but wasn’t a far drive.  I listen to my husband on the phone ask how much for a large pepperoni with extra cheese.  Then, satisfied with the price, he orders (and repeats the words) large pepperoni with extra cheese.  After he gets off the phone, he comments on the guy’s thick accent.  (This will be important later.)  I drive to the shop and for some reason, think to look inside the box before I leave.  (This is at one of those places where they generally show it to you when they bring it out.)  It’s a sausage pizza.  I am not an angry customer, and, apologizing, point out to the man that he gave us the wrong pizza.  He disagrees.  “No, I remember talking to you,” he says.  “You ordered sausage.”  It’s the heavily-accented guy that my husband told me about, so I explain to him that he can’t remember talking to me because my husband ordered and I heard the order.  Furthermore, I explain, hoping to help my case, my husband hates sausage and would never order it.  He agrees to make us another one but says, “You should tell your husband that pepperoni and sausage are pretty much the same thing.” And then, “Your husband will probably be mad at you because he’s very hungry and it will take ten minutes before the new one is ready.”

The last straw comes when he, in full voice, yells to the pizza cook to ask him if he wants the now unwanted sausage pizza to take home to his kids.  The guy declines.  Then accent-guy turns to me and says, “You may as well take this one home too.  We aren’t allowed to take pizzas home.”    Classy.  We now drive all the way across town to the only location that has both the pizza we want and some semblance of acceptable customer service.   



During my "apprenticeship" into the professional world as a temp, there was this one incident I will never forget.  I had an interesting set of interviews with three different supervisors, one after the other, all on the same afternoon at the same company.  Each one lasted fifteen minutes, maybe a half hour.  An uncommon procedure, but not unheard of when you might be serving under more than one manager.

The first two interviewers were polite and professional. The first manager even offered to get me a soda and said it would be fine to have it throughout the rest of the interviews.  The second manager was drinking one himself and, as insinuated, didn't bat an eye at my having one.  It was a West Coast, casual company.  Food and drink was at many desks.  As an interviewee, I was even a bit more dressed-up and business-like than most of the regulars.  Everything seemed to be going great.

Then came the third guy.

The first words out of his mouth were "You know, we haven't found someone worthwhile from (your temp company) yet."  His tone of voice was one of thin toleration instead of professional warmth, as if I was wasting his valuable time.  He sat behind his desk and gave me the stony stare when I answered his questions.  Believe it or not, this was better than when he spoke, as during those times he didn't bother to look me in the eye.  He had obviously made up his mind that I wasn't going to work out before I walked in the door, and I began to wonder how many temps had been intimidated in this manner. 

The one little thing that just sort of said it all?  When I politely (almost meekly) asked if there was someplace I could put my (now empty) soda can, he held open the door, said "There's a trash can on your way out", then shut the door on me so fast I almost got smacked on the bun.  The secretary outside watched, sympathetically sighed, and shook her head.  I don't know whether he disagreed with the company's casual policies, his wife had left him, he was having power squabbles with the other managers, or what, but apparently I *wasn't* the only one he treated this way. 

They hadn't "found someone worthwhile" to staff this position yet?  Gee, I wonder why that could be, what with this bitter, controlling, petty little manager sabotaging everything....

At least there wasn't any worrying whether I'd get the job or not.  I never bothered to call back with my temp agency on this one.



My husband and I recently moved into a new apartment complex.  As we were looking into different places, I called the place we currently live to schedule an appointment to look around.  A woman named Kim answered the phone, and she set me up for an appointment that afternoon.  I came to the complex without my husband, since he was still at work, then if I liked it, he could come back at another time.  Kim showed me around the building, showed me all the amenities, and a sample apartment of each floor plan they offered.  I really liked the look of the place, so my husband came back with me that evening. 

By the time we were finished with the tour, we talked for a minute, and we decided to set up a lease.  Kim took us back to the leasing office and set up the necessary paperwork.  There were lots of papers to sign, faxes to be sent, forms printed, etc, so it took a while, probably about half an hour.  As we were signing and filling in information, Kim is telling us different stories about herself and her family.  (You know how some people you barely know tell you their entire life story?)  So we gave her back all the papers, and she said "Let me check these out, just a minute."  So we sit, waiting patiently, for her to check them.  She kept us sitting there for another 20 minutes, telling us a story about people we'd never met!!!

Finally, we get ready to leave, and I make an appointment with her to pick up my key the following Friday.  Our old apartment lease was ending, and we needed to move quickly.  I watched her write my name down, and I told her I could be there at quarter after 5.  I saw her write down "5:25" (as in a quarter is twenty-five cents), but at that point I wanted to leave so badly I figured I would just let it go.  Not the brightest crayon in the box.

So the following Friday I go to pick up the key.  Two women are in the office; neither is Kim.  They are both helping other people, so I wait patiently.  One of the women asks if she can help me, so I tell her I have an appointment with Kim at quarter after five.  She gives me kind of a funny look, and glances at the other woman, who shakes her head.  The first woman asks me to wait in the lobby until they finish up.  No problem.  I'm sitting there in the lobby for about 15 minutes or so.  So I wait until the second woman, who is the building manager (we'll call her Connie) comes out of the office.  She sits down next to me with a little form and says, "What kind of an apartment are you interested in?"  I stared at her blankly for a minute and said, "What?  No, I'm moving in today!"  She kind of looked blankly back at me for a minute, and then we went into the office together.   It turns out that Kim had never told Connie that we were moving in, never turned in our papers, never got our keys, nothing!!!  Apparently, Kim wanted to leave early, and when asked if she had any appointments that evening, said no.  Connie finds our lease agreement shoved/buried in Kim’s files, pulls it out and looks it over.

By this time my husband had arrived from work, thinking that I would already have the key, we could start moving smaller items, etc.  Connie asks me to look over the typed form that Kim drew up for us, to check for any mistakes, before signing (something Kim never asked us to do).  Turns out that she had my husband’s name spelled wrong and my social security number wrong!  So Connie has to re-do our ENTIRE lease agreement with spelling changes, faxing, more form filling…by this time it’s about 7pm, way past the time I thought I’d get to eat.

Then I mention to Connie something about our cat, and she says, “Cat?  What cat?”  We were allowed to have cats in the complex, but had to pay security fee.  In all the confusion of re-doing the lease, I forgot that I had filled out another paper with the pet fee on it.  If I hadn’t mentioned anything and the landlord needed to get in our apartment one day and saw our cat, we could have been evicted!  Plus, when someone moves in or out, they’re given the use of the freight elevator to move the furniture, but there’s a schedule.  Of course Kim had forgotten to put us down on that, and of course someone was already scheduled to use it that day.  (Luckily, they were very nice and understanding, and were moving the same floor as us, which made it easier.)

Finally, by 7:30, more than 2 HOURS after I had come in, and 1 hour after Connie should have been able to go home, we are done!  Connie apologized profusely, with promises that she would deal with Kim when she came in on Monday.  I found out recently that she has been fired—yay!!!  Every other time I have had a question or concern about the complex, Connie has been more than happy to answer it for me, with no delay.  


Even though this story has a happy ending, it still bothers me after six years.    It was January and I was scheduled to graduate in May.  I had been looking for a job and had an interview with "Inconsiderate Company".  The position was what I'd been looking for, and the salary was good; it was also near my family.  The interview went well, and a week or so later I was offered a position and signed a letter of intent.

Finding a job really took a lot of pressure off of me.  I'd gotten along well with the rep in Personnel, and we would email jokes back and forth, that sort of thing.  Well, as April rolled around I emailed her asking for some Realtors in the area so I could start trying to find a home.  I finally got a reply a week later stating that they didn't feel they needed me after all, but thanks anyway.

I was graduating in 6 weeks and I didn't have a job!  I hadn't been looking for one because I thought I had one.  After scrambling around for a couple of weeks a friend steered me to the company I work for now.  I'm happy here and I feel very lucky I didn't end up at Inconsiderate Company.

Now I know a letter of intent isn't a contract, but they could have had the common courtesy to tell me I wasn't needed.  If I hadn't asked about realtors they never would have said a thing to me.   BTW, after I called my email "buddy" asking why they hadn't notified me about this before she offered to set me up with an interview with one of Inconsiderate Company's branch offices.  She still doesn't understand why I turned her down!_


Our office has about 80 employees and there is never an email or notice or any mention about “contributing” to gifts.  Once word gets out about good news like a wedding or baby most everyone will just generously contribute.   About 2 years ago, one of the top managers “Tom” announced his engagement to “Sue”.  The office was extremely excited for him, as he is one of the favorite manager, a little bit older (about 42), and this was his first marriage.   Contribution for a gift came fast and furious.  Since I collect the money, I was just overwhelmed by everyone’s generosity.  I collected $2300!

I found out that Tom and Sue were registered at a very exclusive high end store.  So the following weekend I went with my sister to this store because neither one of us would miss an opportunity to look at all of the beautiful things at this place.  I think we spent a little over 2 hours there and we became familiar with the store’s fine china associate “Elaine”.  I was able to purchase 5 full place settings in their china pattern with the money that I had.  Yes, it cost $420 for one 5 piece place setting!  So with tax it left me with a little over $100 so I placed that remainder in the store’s gift card.  The store offered to ship the gift to the Bride and Groom’s home.  I could even send a personal card with it.  So in the next couple of days I had everyone sign the card and I went back to the store to send it with the gift.

I received confirmation that the gift, gift card, and personal card was sent and received (they have the most excellent service at that store) but no one heard anything from Tom or Sue.  I shrugged it off as perhaps it was just an oversight on their part.  Maybe they were overwhelmed with the wedding, as it was going to be about 350 guest list and perhaps they would get to thanking everyone after the wedding.  No one from the office was invited to the wedding but that wasn’t a big deal.

So the wedding date comes and goes and there is no mentioned or thank you for our gifts and about 6 months have gone by with no word.  As an additional coincidence, I had another bride who registered at this same high end store.  Again, I made the trip with my sister and we ran into the same associate Elaine.  She recognized us right away and began to tell us this horrific story about Sue.  A few days after the wedding date, Sue came into the store with everything everyone purchased for her on her registry at this store.  She actually had to park by the “red curb” outside the store just to unload her SUV.  Her total came to almost $12,000.  A lot of people bought her gift cards too.  Elaine wasn’t the clerk to help her with the return (because the manager had to be called in for this) but she overheard Sue tell her companion that it was a good thing she registered at this store because of their easy return policy and that she will be getting a lot of cash!  The manager tried to give Sue a little bit of a bad time by telling her if she had “doubles” that this would be a little bit easier but returning her whole registry was a bit too much.  Since she had the “gift receipts” they could give her store credit.  This was unacceptable to Sue.  She ranted, raged and caused a screaming huge scene.  They finally gave in and gave her the money.  When the manager was verifying the amounts on the gift cards, the two women would scoff at the amounts.  The whole store was relieved when the two women left and they placed a noticed that she could not register for anything else there (Yes, they are that exclusive and frankly I don’t blame them!)  I never told anyone at the office what I knew.

Two years pass by and Tom one day mentions that he is expecting a baby!  The response for contribution this time was slim.  I was curious if something had happened.  I asked a friend of mine “Joe” who also worked directly for him what was going on.  He told me that when Tom’s group came over to his house that following year for his annual Christmas party, they were in for a surprise.  A small group of employees asked Sue if they could see the place setting that was purchased for them and they were taken back for a rude awakening.  Sue tells the group which also included an executive that she returned it to the store.  They were all floored.  She was asked if she didn’t like it or if there was a problem with it and she casually says “I only registered at that store so that I could get the money.”  She continued to tell them that she picked out the most expensive things to register for just for the money and then laughed.  They were so stunned by her comments that they literally stood there in a group for a few minutes more and just didn’t say anything. When they did speak, they agreed that she could have just lied and said that she had them locked up somewhere and didn’t want to get them out.  Later on, they all mentioned that they never even heard of any “thank you” for the gift.  Word got out into the office about Sue’s behavior and I suppose everyone was just a little tainted.

So now it comes time for a baby gift and as I mentioned before the contribution is small.  So I dipped into our office fund (I can do this) and placed some more money into a “gift basket”.  I chose not go off of her registry and just purchase this gift basket from a very nice baby store.  When the baby was born, I sent flowers to the hospital and the gift basket to the house.  Tom came back about three days later boasting with pictures.  When we looked at the pictures, I noticed that Sue was surrounded by white roses.  Literally more than 6 dozen roses surrounded her.  I commented on how beautiful they were and Tom tells us that his wife doesn’t accept anything less than white roses.  Carnations and star gazers are just too common for her (a little bit of an insensitive comment since we sent a blue arrangement which included carnations). Tom showed more pictures which had different relatives and people in the room holding the new baby.  In a few pictures, I noticed a table in the far back of the room in a very dark place that had several arrangements on it including the one I sent from the office.  It was a little peculiar looking as it was not arranged but kind of stuffed into the corner.  Again, no one ever received a thank you for this. 

Before the end of the day, I got a call from the store I purchased the gift basket from asking if I would like to come in and get a refund.  I was confused.  Apparently, Sue was in the store trying to return this $265.00 basket only THREE DAYS AFTER THE BABY WAS BORN!!  The clerk told me that since the transaction was new and not complete (I think she said it took 5 business days to go through) that if Sue couldn’t return this not even for a gift card until the transaction was completed.  Sue had given the clerk my phone number so that she can ask for me to come to the store with the company credit card. She wanted me to refund the card and perhaps I would give her the cash. Sue gets on the phone and in this very sappy sweet tone tells me this too.  (I have never spoken to Sue before and I don’t know how to answer people when I’m in shock).  So the only thing that came out of my mouth was that I wouldn’t do it.  She got irate with me where she was trying to belittle me.  I didn’t want to take it.  So I interrupted her and told her I was not going listen to her tone and abuse and requested that she not call me again!  Luckily, I never did. Additionally, I called the store back 2 days later to see if Sue was successful in returning it and they told me that they didn’t and wouldn’t!  They requested Sue not to come back into the store as her belligerent behavior was more than harassing it was threatening.  A police officer was near by and they requested for Sue to be escorted from the store.  She went kicking and screaming and didn’t calm down until the officer threatened to call Child Services to take the baby while they throw her in jail!

A year later, Tom announced his second baby.  I wasn’t shocked that no one contributed, as Tom and Sue were becoming quite the topic of conversation because of her bad behavior and inappropriate outbursts while she visited the office or at company functions.  When I didn’t send flowers to the hospital, Tom came to me a few days later and asked if we still do that.  He proceeded to tell me that his wife was hurt that we didn’t send anything to her.  I actually didn’t reply to him.  I just smiled and went back to work.



My father died almost two years ago, in 2003, barely a week before his birthday. This hit my mom especially hard; though he wasn't the best of fathers (or husbands), she still loved him dearly. A bit of background on my dad: Since we found the internet several years ago, he'd been signing up for several free-stuff sites and mailing lists, so we would catch an insane amount of telemarketer calls.

So, it wasn't much of a surprise when, a few months after his passing, my mom gets a call asking for my father. Here's the gist of what was said (I wasn't there, but my brother told me about it):

Caller: Hello, may I speak to Mr. G? Mom: I'm sorry, but he passed away recently. Caller: Well, may I speak to his replacement then? Mom: *stunned silence, cold voice* He does not have a replacement. Caller: Oh. Well, Mrs. G - it is Mrs. G, right? Mom: Yes. Caller: (cheery happy telemarketer voice) My name is A with Such-and-Such magazine, I'd like to speak with you about a subscription--- Mom: *more stunned silence* F*** you. *click*

I almost wish she had him there in person. Some people can be so tactless!


I had just returned home from working in a resort town for the summer, trying to earn/save money for my university tuition in fall. Knowing I had a huge bill coming up, I was living on the EXTREME cheap and basically let my closest girl friends know it, so there would be no awkward moments with them, if they wanted to invite me out for lunch or they wanted me to attend some event I couldn't possibly afford. I am also NOT on for charities or letting people pick up the tab, so our events would have to include a rented movie and some chips... nothing extravagant. One of my friends, we'll call her Deb, invited me to a "Party Lite" candle party at her apartment (please let this me known that Party Lite is a combination of pyramid scheme and a rip off where you pay $20 for a pack of crappy scented candles.) I informed Deb that I do not like candles, and I rarely if ever burn then, and that I did not have the money to purchase anything, so I would not be going. Deb BEGGED me to come, saying that I would not have to buy anything, that I was under no obligation, and so forth... they just needed another person there because there was not a lot of people coming. After about an hour of unrelentless harassment, I agreed. I showed up 10 minutes early, with chip dip, some fruit and pop in tow, because I feel terrible she's having to throw one of these god awful parties. When I arrive, I am informed that there is only Deb, the "Party Lite" consultant, and the consultants roommate there. Therefore, I am the ONLY PAYING CUSTOMER! 

As the night progresses, I'm pressured into buying $60 worth of crappy candles (gifts I suppose), the consultant spends most of the evening on the phone and doesn't even DO her presentation, the three of them are totally rude and talk about the most VULGAR... "sexual situations" (I'm not claiming to be innocent, but I have limits ESPECIALLY about what I want to hear from other people that I don't even KNOW), then they start giving me the gears to host MY OWN party. 

At this point, I'm pissed off for having to part with my money and listen to these girls, so I say "You know what? I don't even like buying this crap, I'm not going to hold a party where I try and pressure my other friends into spending their money on this garbage, so I don't see that happening. Ever." Although I know that was incredibly rude, I think after being treated so poorly be Deb and the consultant not even doing her job properly... needless to say, regardless of begging, I will never, EVER go to another one of those parties again. (Deb has coerced another friend of ours to throw one next week. You'd better believe that is not going to happen!)


Went with my family to a fast-growing in popularity flame grilled chicken eatery in Brisbane and were enjoying our scrumptious, spicy hot chicken when my wife noticed a bug in her burger. We checked as you are wont to do, and sure enough, unanimously decided it was a bug and worthy of complaint. Called over the waitress who was in a hurry and came to address us after the second beckoning. She looked at the food and said she would take it in to show the manager. I could see directly inside the kitchen and saw her speak with the manager and show him the offending plate of food and bug. We waited and waited until we could wait no more and called her over and asked her what the manager said. She said she would get him immediately. Eventually the manager wandered over. He said, no the waitress had not shown her the item in question. We suggested he go and have a look at it and see if there was anything he could do about it. He came back and said the waitress had thrown it out and there was not much else he could do about it. I had actually seen him go into the kitchen and take a look at the plate with the food on it and discussed something again with the waitress. Up till this time, I had no intention of taking the matter any further, as I expected a sincere apology and as we had all eaten our fill anyway, any offer of a replacement something to make up for the inconvenience suffered would be refused by us and we would go our merry way. Now, I was upset and suggested there was gross mishandling of this complaint, as I was genuinely aggrieved. He threw a perfunctory 'couldn't be helped' my way and left.

I wrote the head office a very terse letter outlining the spoilt evening. I received a reply very promptly. In fact I received a call from the Sydney Headquarters and was promised a voucher, in fact I was assured it was in the post. Unfortunately it did not arrive, but at least I was placated somewhat.


Having worked off and on as a server to support myself while attending college, I’d like to think that I am extremely understanding when it comes to being a patron at a restaurant.  After all, I know what it is like to have upwards of five tables full of people who all think that they are your only customers.  I am happy to say that, until the incident which I will describe, I had not had any dining experiences that warranted complaint.

A male friend and I had decided to have dinner at a casual restaurant that I absolutely love.  I had been there several times before and the food and service were wonderful.  We had arrived before the dinner rush so things weren’t very busy and we were seated in the section of “Jan”.  Perhaps it is insignificant, but the first thing that I noticed was that Jan was somewhat older than most of the wait staff (this was a college town and the entire wait staff appeared to be around 15-20 years younger than her).  She seemed friendly and confident, however, and my friend and I ordered soft drinks and appetizers.  I also ordered an alcoholic drink from the bar.  She asked for my ID, which was appropriate as I was only 23 at the time, and after determining that I was of legal age she commented to my friend that he had better “take care of” me as I was a little girl and that was a stout drink.  I was slightly offended that such a personal remark had been made but I chalked it up as a misguided attempt to be friendly and overlooked it.  A few minutes later my bar drink arrived, and around 20 minutes later the appetizers were brought to us.  We still had not received our soft drinks, however, and asked the man who brought out our food to inform our server of that fact.  A little later another group was set in Jan’s section.  A few minutes later she appeared from the back of the restaurant for the first time since taking our order.  We got her attention and informed her that we were almost finished with our appetizers and still had not received as much as a glass of water.  She actually waved us off with a nod and proceeded to her new table to take their drink orders.  

By now I was beginning to get angry, but I decided that she would probably bring out all of the drinks together to save time and as long as I did get something to drink everything would be fine.  After another wait she brought out our food…but STILL no drinks.  When we brought this to her attention again, she mumbled something about how so and so was supposed to bring them for her.  (Which is a pet peeve of mine…I think it is very unprofessional to blame a co-worker in front of customers, whether they are really to blame or not.)  

Finally, after we had sat with our food for a couple more minutes, the delayed soft drinks arrived, brought by another server.  I assumed that the worst was over and settled down to my meal.  My friend had ordered a hamburger, which he proceeded to cut in half.   To our horror, it revealed a large green chunk of what appeared to be mold in the center of the meat.  Needless to say, we had both lost our appetite by this point and, after waiting a couple of minutes for our waitress to return, then being unable to flag her down when she did pass by; my friend arose and tracked down a manager.  My friend calmly explained the entire situation to the manager (I regret to say that I was incapable of speaking calmly at this point, so I decided to say nothing at all).  He was very understanding and sympathetic, apologized for our trouble and told us not to worry about paying for what we had ordered as he would take care of it.  He even brought a carry out container for my meal, which was untouched.  As we were leaving, Jan hurried (for the first time all evening) to our table to look for a tip and, as my friend observed, seemed very put out to find nothing, staring very pointedly after us.  I suppose I made my own breach of etiquette in not leaving a tip, and I did feel somewhat guilty as I have always believed that even mediocre service deserves at least a 15% gratuity, but after reminding myself that Jan had only been to our table twice throughout the evening (not counting the time she waved us off) I believe that receiving no tip was more than she deserved.  I must add that I have since returned to the restaurant several times and have never had another problem (though I do check any meat I order carefully) and have not had the displeasure of seeing Jan there again.    



My story concerns the rudeness of a conductor on our local commuter rail. I take the commuter rail often with my two kids, since it is easier than trying to find parking downtown in a major city. The incidents occurred when my youngest was 7 months old and my oldest was 23 months.

The conductor, whose name really is Dick, has never been seen to smile, say please, or any of those common niceties. But fine, some people are like that. Where he crossed the line in my book was when I was trying to get on the train one day. I had my youngest in a sling on my chest, and the older one in a baby backpack/stroller. I was trying to carry said stroller up the stairs in front of me, with my son in it. Naturally, this is all heavy and awkward. So I politely asked Dick, who was at the top of the stairs, "Would you mind giving me a hand with this?" Every other conductor on the line wouldn't even need to be asked. His response was brusque: "Only if you take the kid out!". Now, I'm still trying to figure out how that would have worked. I struggled up on my own, while Dick sighed impatiently because I was holding up the train. I resisted the urge to 'accidentally' drop my stroller on his foot.

Then a couple weeks later, I encountered him again. This time, the older son walked onto the train while the baby rode in the backpack. I had set the backpack on the seat to get the baby out, and had forgotten to put it down on the floor. Normally I do this right away, and brush the seat off so that future passengers do not get dust on their backsides. However, said baby was howling for a bottle, so I had other things to think about. When conductor Dick came along to take our tickets, he raised his voice, grabbed at my backpack and said "This does NOT belong on the seat!" Had he asked me politely, I would have moved it instantly with an apology. When you yell at me in front of my kids, however, you do not get my best side. My response was and equally loud "Excuse me? Do you really need to be so rude?" He snarled back about how I was the one being rude. I shut my mouth, fed my howling baby, went home and sent a nastygram to the head of the commuter rail customer service. I'm not asking for Mary Poppins to take my tickets, but you could have a little common courtesy, and a wee bit of understanding for one mom juggling two kids under 2.




Here's a brief but very, very true story of the worst restaurant service I have ever had:

A few years ago I was doing some environmental work with a consultant in Battle Mountain, Nevada. After work, we decided to have dinner together since neither of us cared to eat alone. There weren't a lot of places to eat dinner in town, so we decided on what appeared to be the local favorite based on the number of cars in the parking lot. I can't remember what I ordered but my associate ordered a huge steak and baked potato. Shortly after our dinners arrived, the waitress began taking orders form a table a few over from ours. The customers were not English-speaking and were having a very difficult time understanding the waitress's explanation of a "baked potato". The waitress tried to explain, but got more and more frustrated because she couldn't make them understand. Finally, she walked over to our table and asked my associate "Is it OK if I show those people what your baked potato looks like?" My associate said ok, thinking that she would carry the plate over to the other customers and return it. Instead, she reached onto his plate and picked up his potato WITH HER BARE HANDS, carried it over to the other table, said "see, this is what a baked potato looks like", walked back over to our table, and put I t back on my associate's plate. She then wiped her hand on her apron and walked away like nothing happened. All my associate could say was "did that just really happen?!" and all I could do was laugh.


Page Last Updated May 18, 2007