Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?

Poor girl. A waitress was reduced to tears the other night because of an unruly customer having temperature issues with her steak (apparently it was underdone when it came out, then overcooked after she sent it back, or something like that). What really sent the waitress fleeing to bathroom, however, was when the fed-up woman hissed at her, "It's because of you that I'm eating cold pizza tonight."

I probably would've fared better with that table, as I happen to love cold pizza (an enthusiastic "Ooh! Can I come over?" would've been a fun reply). I do feel bad for the waitress, but she really needs to let confrontations like that roll off her back if she wants to keep her sanity at this place (our restaurant's clientele send food back like it's a bodily function). When I was a line cook at my previous job, an old man told me that I ruined his Fourth of July. Feh.

Another lovely conversation

I preferred the deaf woman. The following is yet another transcription of yet another customer dispute that occurred the other day. This, unlike the last one I posted, was verbal and relatively quick, but no less irritating. Brief setup: I'm the only front-of-house employee in the restaurant when a young woman enters. She looks at the menu for about two seconds before deciding on our special omelet of the day (containing tomato, squash, scallions, ham, and cheddar), but without the ham. Well-acquainted with our restaurant's policies, I know there's no way in hell the kitchen will modify a special like that, so we proceed to squabble. Did I mention the woman had her sunglasses on the entire time, despite being indoors? According to Larry David, that means she's either blind or an asshole. I'm opting for the latter.

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Customer (after I politely deny her request to remove the ham): "Well, what, is it pre-made or something?"

Me: "No, it's not pre-made, I'm afraid we just don't modify anything that's on our written specials board. If you'd like, you can always create your own omelet from the regular menu."

Customer: "I'm a vegetarian - you're telling me I can't have that omelet made without meat?!"

Me: "That particular omelet, no, but again, you can easily create a vegetarian omelet from our regular menu. Also, we have a variety of really delicious vegetarian egg dishes up there, like our southwest burrito, truffle egg toast, and strata. The strata's an Italian-based, deep-dish egg..."

Customer (cutting me off): "I know what strata is! I don't why you're being so difficult, the other gentleman who's behind the register lets me do this. I've done it all the time."

Me (caught off-guard by her complete lie, a look of bewilderment slips through my polite mask): "Um, we never modify our specials. I've worked here for three years and we've never done that."

Customer: "The other man does it for me."

Me: "No, he doesn't. Now I'm sorry, ma'am - I don't make the rules, but I do have to enforce them."

Customer: "There! That's just it - you said 'rules'. You shouldn't say that, because I'm the customer, and now you're just insulting me."

Me: "Insulting you?"

Customer: "Yes!"

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And with that, the woman storms out as the two diners sitting at the bar burst into laughter. They witnessed the whole thing, sympathized with me, and we proceeded to have a good yuk about it. It's reassuring to know that at least some of our customers aren't insane.