God bless restaurant workers. Lord knows they deal with their fair share of horrible customers. At any time, these workers could encounter some of the rudest, meanest, neediest customers in the world. For most restaurant workers, the main goal is to ensure customer service goes beyond what's expected, regardless of who the customer is. This can be extremely difficult if the customer turns out to be an entitled brat.

Don't just take our word for it. Here's a collection of stories shared by restaurant workers who turned to Reddit to expose some of the most entitled customers they've ever dealt with. Content has been edited for clarity.

"I Am The Owner"

"I worked at a BBQ restaurant from when I was 12-20 (my parents owned it). I did everything from dishes, bussing, orders, food prep, drinks, etc. I've done it all. Where I lived, the summer was the craziest. During every other season, it was dead. The summer saw all the crazies and stressed tourists (met some amazing people as well). Taking orders I've seen/heard it all.

So here's the story...

It was a blistering hot day. We had a line that was long it was out the door (this was a fast casual where you ordered at a counter), everyone was running around trying to do 100 tasks at once. I was working the cash register/taking orders when this entitled mother and her spoiled kid walk in.

Me: 'Hi, how you doing?'

Entitled Mom: (kind of brushes me off) 'Fine...'

Me: 'What can I get started for you today?'

Entitled Mom: 'Can my son and I see the vegan menu please?'

Keep in mind, the menu was right behind my head with every item clearly displayed.

Me: 'I'm sorry ma'am we actually don't have a vegan menu, but do you have any questions about other items?'

Entitled Mom: 'Well, what can I get here that's vegan?'

Sidenote: I'm actually vegan as well (I know working in a BBQ restaurant as vegan, but I've lost the taste after working there so long), so I can understand how it can be frustrating going places and not being able to find things to eat other than some lettuce scraps. But at least I'm not going into places where I know I can't get anything in the first place.

Me: 'Really the only thing we have is the side salad and we could do that without croutons (i.e. everything is made with meat, dairy, cooked in it).'

Entitled Mom: 'Well, we don't want salad, we want something barbecued.'

Me, kind of stumped: 'I'm so sorry but that's the only vegan it-'

Entitled Mom, throwing her hands up and raising her voice: 'WELL what are we supposed to eat?!'

Me: 'Uh...'

Entitled Mom: 'Absolutely ridiculous that you cannot cater to those who are vegan/vegetarian, etc....'

Me: 'I'm so sorry - it's just that we are a BBQ place that specializes in-'

Entitled Mom: 'Let me speak to the manager'

At this point, the line is freakishly long behind her and people are starting to stare and give her that what the heck look. I go to grab my Dad who is unloading stuff from suppliers and I told him what was going on so he's already annoyed with the situation and knowing there's nothing he can do to help

Dad: 'Hi, I heard there was an is-'

Entitled Mom: 'WE ARE PAYING CUSTOMERS and it's ridiculous that you have nothing AVAILABLE FOR MY SON AND I TO EAT. YOU ARE CUTTING A WHOLE GROUP OF PEOPLE OUT AS PAYING CUSTOMERS!'

Now, my Dad is really accommodating and nice with customers, but press him and he will not be kind.

Dad: 'Ma'am I am sorry you feel this way HOWEVER you walked into a BBQ restaurant. We serve BBQ, we're not a vegan place and don't claim to be. If you want vegan food, there's a great place down the street I can point the way to. The sign outside says BBQ, ribs, brisket, etc. that's what we sell, and to walk into some place demanding a service/product that we don't advertise is on you. Now, we can make you a big side salad and you can enjoy our patio, but if you are going to yell at my son and disturb the other customers here, I'd suggest the restaurant down the street.'

Entitled Mom, screeching: 'HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! WE ARE NEVER COMING HERE AGAIN! YOU'LL HEAR ABOUT IT ON YELP. I'D LIKE TO SPEAK TO THE OWNER! HE WILL HEAR ALL ABOUT THIS!'

Dad: 'I am the owner...'

At this point the Entitled Mom kind of screams insults and then storms out the door. My Dad then called the owner of the vegan place down the street (his friend) and let him know who may be coming his way. I got back to working and every customer who came up afterwards that was behind her just trash talked her with me. Never saw a Yelp review. She gives vegans a bad rep."

Caught Up In Quite The Pickle

"I used to work at a certain fast food restaurant and, just like every other customer service rep, I have dealt with my fair share of entitled parents and their children. Though the kids usually weren't entitled or bratty. Surprisingly, it's usually only their bratty parents who are the entitled one. Anyway, coming into work every day felt like walking through tall grass, and a wild 'Karen' could always appear. I've got a treasure chest full of stories, but this one is by far my favorite.

On normal days, I usually worked at the drive thru window, handing out bags of food instead of taking orders (mostly because I was garbage at trying to take orders since I couldn't hear all that well with all the background noise).

All I had to do is say, 'Good afternoon, here's your burger and fries with a coke. Have a good day,' and this day was no different.

It's halfway through the lunch hours when 'Karen's' order pops up on my screen: 5 double cheese burgers meals with extra pickles and a couple cokes. I don't think too hard about it. I get her drinks ready and wait for her to roll up so I can just hand her order off and wait for the next customer. Karen rolls up with her hair as messy as the car she drove and a square in her hand. She's got two teenage girls sitting in the back of her car, texting on their phones and paying me no mind.

Me: 'Hi, did you order the five double cheeseburgers?'

Karen nods her head, and responds in her deep, southern drawl: 'Yes, with extra pickles?'

Me: 'Yes ma'am. Here's your order, and you have a good day.'

Karen just sneers and rolls her eyes at me as she takes the food and speeds off. And I think that's the end of our interaction. Boy was I wrong.

Not five minutes later, I hear a banging on the window, and I turn around to see Karen, red in the face and her two daughters looking pitifully up at me aware of what's about to happen next. She goes off the second I open my window.

Karen: 'Excuse me, but I said I wanted extra pickles on my cheeseburger and look how many I got?!'

She practically crawls out of the driver side window to shove that burger into my hands, showing, not two, but four pickles on the pitifully made sandwich. Oh, the humanity!

On a quick side note, we don't up-charge for any extra pickles that they request for our cheaper menu options, so these are free pickles she's got on her sandwich.

Karen: 'I have my receipt! You charged me for these extra pickles, and I only get four on each burger?! I want my order remade, RIGHT NOW!'

Me, shaking because I do NOT like confrontation: 'Okay ma'am. I'll talk to my manager and try to get your order remade for you.'

I close my window and take the rejected cheeseburger to my manager who's standing four feet away from me, thinking I've resolved the issue. Apparently not. I hear something hit the window followed shortly by tires screeching as this woman hits the gas and pulls into a parking space in front of the store. She gets out the car and slams the car door shut behind her. I kid you not, someone's kid started screaming and wailing as this woman storms into the restaurant, her face red with the fury she was about to unleash.

My manager shoos me back to the window before I can get caught up in the crossfire.

Karen: 'HELLO!'

Manager: 'Yes Ma'am. Is there an issue?'

Karen: 'Yes there's an issue! (she points a finger at me). That idiot there charged me for extra pickles and I got the same amount of pickles they put on any other burger!'

Manager: 'Ma'am, you ordered the double cheese burger. We normally make these with two pickles instead of four, and we didn't up-charge you for any extra.'

Karen: 'Well, I wanted more pickles!'

Manager: 'I'm so sorry about the inconvenience ma'am. We'll remake your order, free of charge.'

Karen: 'What about her?!'

she points at me again

Manager: 'What about her?'

Karen: 'I want her fired for being so rude and inconsiderate! This is not good customer service!'

Manager: 'Oh, I'm sorry. How was she rude?'

Karen: 'She took my burger from me!'

Me, cutting in: 'Ma'am, you handed me your burger, so I just took it so I could get it fixed.'

Karen: 'Well I didn't want the old burgers fixed, I wanted to get a whole new order to make up for this one being messed up!'

Manager: 'I'm sorry about this ma'am. Can we have your old bag of food? We'll just throw it out and make your order from scratch.'

Karen: 'No, I just want my new, correct order!'

This goes on for a few minutes, with my manager trying to be as calm as she can be while this woman just goes back and forth with her. If I had to make a guess, I'd say she was just trying to pilfer extra food from us. One of her daughters, who came in the store with her, tried to get Karen to calm down and leave, obviously having dealt with this sort of thing before.

I start ignoring her, and go back to handing out food. The woman in the car behind Karen pulled up and start apologizing for her behavior! Apparently, when I turned around, Karen had gotten mad and lobbed a couple of the burgers at the window, screaming and cursing as she speed off. The lady in the car behind her was appalled, and, before she screeched off, threw one of her old drinks at Karen's car. She was so sweet compared to the screeching banshee behind me.

As far as the story goes, Karen eventually breaks down and hands her rejected order back to the manager, gets her order remade with 8 pickles per sandwich, and leaves in a huff with her daughter apologizing behind her as they leave."

"Do You Not Know Who I Am?!"

"I work as a waitress/kitchen hand at a restaurant connected to a bowlers club. I had my fair share of entitled wombats, so enjoy this one.

Every Saturday the club has a live music event. Most of the bands that play are small, but really good. We're just chilling out, I'm not working but felt like coming down to just relax with my co-worker (whom I also happen to be dating now). It's around 7:30 pm and the band playing is a mix of funk and disco tech. The club is in a pretty good mood, that was until this woman came over to my boss and demanded they stopped playing as it was disrupting their dinner. My boss simply told her that she could ask them to play a little more quietly but there wasn't much she could do. The woman stormed off back to her table and she thought nothing of it.

Few minutes later, I go over to my boss to see how she's doing and suddenly we hear a loud screech from the speakers. We turn and it's the mom... She had the cord for the speaker that's connected to the guitar. The band was livid. She started trying to defend herself by saying that she disliked their music and that her children won't be turned by, 'the Devil's music.'

My boss stormed over and asked her to give the cord back and go back to her table, but she refused claiming that her husband works for council and that he could shut down our restaurant if they wanted (total bunch of bull). People started getting upset over it and one of the club managers came over with one of my co-workers, and politely asked what was going on. The mom just bursts out with one of the dumbest things I've ever heard.

Mom: 'They were playing music that I don't like and I want them banned from the venue. If they are not removed, I will call my husband and he will have them removed. Do you not know who I am? My husband works for council! I can get this whole place shut down with a click of my fingers!'

We all stood there with this what the heck look on our faces. My boss again asked her to hand the cord over and to continue with her night, but she refused. I for one didn't want to get involved but my co-worker on the other hand is very different. He asks the mom what her husbands name is, she tells us.

Fun Fact: my co-worker's father works for council as a Secretary.

So then my co-worker calls his dad and asks if her husband worked for council. He was confused when he asked, but went along. Turns out her husband does in-fact work for council... as a lawn mower. All her husband does is takes care of the equestrian park and other gardens in the town. He ended the call and we all looked at her. She was shaking and quietly gave up the cord. We let her stay after she apologized, but she has been warned not to do that mess ever again or she'd be the one banned from the venue."

"I Demand To Speak With Your Employer!"

"This happened while I was being trained as a waitress at school (I go to a vocational school, if you don’t know what that is, look it up), so let’s say two years ago. My senior trainer, let’s call her 'CC,' and I had two squares and a round (squares seat four people and rounds typically seat seven). The restaurant closes at 1:00 PM, so at 12:45, entitled mom 'EM' and her kid (the kid was actually really sweet, so we’ll call her 'K') entered.

The host brought them to a small two-person table on one side of the room, but then EM said that the table was too small and insisted on having a round for her and her kid to share. The host politely told EM that we weren’t allowed to seat parties of two at a round table meant for seven. So with a mutter of a few swears or more, the pair moved to my table. Business went around as usual, CC introduced herself and I and said that I was only there for observation. That’s when EM made her first of many comments towards us.

'Aren’t you a little old to be trained, you should already know what you’re doing.' At the time I was only 15 and had been in shop for only a few months, not to mention it was my first time in the dining room.

CC explained why I was being trained. EM just rolled her eyes and ordered a sandwich while K ordered a salad.

Towards dessert time, CC had to take another tables order, so she sent me to ask EM and K if they would like anything else. The conversation that follows is similar to the one we had:

Me: 'Will there be any dessert today ladies?'

EM: 'See, I knew you were just using your little friend so you didn’t have to do any work.'

K: 'Mom, please.'

EM: 'Just get us a menu and take these plates out of the way.'

At the time, I was a very shy sophomore, so I didn’t bother saying something. I quietly grabbed their plates and then handed them a menu. When CC came back, they decided to order dessert. The mother claimed she was 'on a diet.' K ordered a chocolate banana mousse. CC typed it in and a few minutes later placed the mousse on the table. Typically, we wait to bring over the check when they’re either 3/4 of the way done or fully done with their dessert, but we barely got around the corner when EM waved us down again.

EM: 'I don’t like it take it back and off my bill,' as she takes the mousse from her kid and gives it back to us.

CC: 'I’m sorry, is there anything else I can get you?'

EM: 'Get me the rice pudding!'

Please keep in mind that this was not her dessert, this was her kid’s.

So, we took the mousse off her bill and got her the rice pudding she so desperately wanted. This process repeated with the 10 other dessert items that were on our menu, each one had a different excuse– 'not enough caramel,' or 'I don’t like chocolate.' Meanwhile, her poor kid was trying to eat her dessert without her mother changing it out for a new one. Before we knew it, we ran out of desserts. My teacher (aka my savior of the story, we’ll call her 'TS') came over to me while CC dealt with the entitled one. TS had been watching EM from the moment she walked through the doors. She felt it was time to step in. She walked over and told me to print the check. The convo that follows was the rudest thing a customer has ever said in the restaurant.

TS: 'Hello Ma'am, what seems to be the problem?'

EM: 'What? Are you another one of those brat students?'

TS: 'No I’m TS, the instructor of the dining room. My students tell me that none of our desserts have satisfied you.'

EM: 'Yeah, they were all awful! Not to even mention the service was awful. Your two so-called students weren’t even doing what I wanted! I ordered a Prime Rib and I got a sandwich. And her salad was cold! I demand that my meal be free!'

Yes...this mom demanded her meal be free because the service wasn’t up to her expectations. She came to a student run restaurant at a school and expected things to fall right into her lap. We have a sign hanging above the entrance that says the entire shop is student run and to be patient and respectful to those working and learning. This woman clearly did NOT understand that.

TS: 'I’m sorry ma’am, but I can not give you your bill for free. I watched and you ate everything on your plate. You didn’t even order a prime rib...'

EM: 'This is a bunch of bull! I come here with my daughter before she moves away and I can’t even get a ounce of respect from a woman who claims to be a teacher! Not to mention the service here is trash! I demand to speak with your employer!'

This was when the kid jumped in...(I was later told she was a past student at my school).

K: 'Mom! It’s a student run restaurant, things aren’t going to be perfect! Salads are supposed to be cold. You ordered the sandwich and ate all of it without complaining! Please just give me the check so I can escape further embarrassment!'

This shut EM up. On command, I walked over and handed K the check and ended the conversation with, 'Have a nice day!'

EM then stormed out and left her daughter with the $25 bill. The kid apologized for her mother’s behavior and bought us a bag of cookies as an apology. That was the last I saw of both of them."

"That’s Child Abuse!"

"I’m a waitress at a pretty popular local bar, who also happens to be 7 months pregnant.

No, obviously I don’t drink while pregnant, or drink on the job ever.

A woman (Karen) comes in with what I’m assuming was her husband, son, and daughter and asks if she can have a table for four people for lunch. We’re not really a restaurant, but we have a really small sandwich and wings menu.

I give them menus and Karen says, 'But, wait, do you work here?'

Me: 'Yep.'

Karen: 'But you’re pregnant, you can’t work here if you’re pregnant.'

'I work here, I don’t drink here,' I say, with a laugh, trying to keep the mood light.

The woman looks me over and says, 'Have you taken any prenatal courses? Do you really think that’s responsible to have your unborn baby in here?'

This is where I made an error. I get defensive about anyone asserting I’m a bad mother, obviously, so I said, 'Well, you’ve brought your kids in here, Right? What kind of example do you think you’re setting for them?'

I’m still collecting my thoughts at this point when they grunt and wave me away. I figure I can kiss my tip goodbye, but hopefully that’ll be the end of that discussion.

I see them flagging down the bartender after a few minutes and figure they’re ready, so I head back over to take their order. Karen asks to speak to a manager. Now, they haven’t even gotten drinks yet, so I ask if there’s anything I can help them with and her husband (Mr. Karen) says really sternly, 'No, just a manager, didn’t you hear my wife?'

The place is too small for a manager, it’s just servers and bartenders and two owners. The owner, who was working that day, was in the back on a phone call and would be upset if I go and bother her.

I realize maybe they’re still uncomfortable with my being pregnant so I told them maybe Ella (the other server) can help them... Nope. Karen gets up to physically look for the manager. I admit defeat and go to the back to drag the only owner in the bar off of her call to help deal with this Karen.

The owner goes over and with a big smile asks if there’s anything she can help them with.

Karen: 'Your server is pregnant.' The owner says she’s aware and asks if they’d prefer a different server.

Karen: 'No no no, she can’t be a drink girl if she’s pregnant. That’s child abuse.'

Owner: 'I assure you, none of our employees drink on the clock, especially not our pregnant ones. If you’d prefer I can have Ella serve you...'

Mr. Karen: 'I don’t want my kids seeing this!'

Owner: 'Maybe I’m missing something. Seeing what, exactly?'

Mr. Karen (talking really slowly and condescendingly): 'A. Pregnant. Woman. Around. All. These. Drinks.'

Me:' I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I would never drink during pregnancy.'

Karen: 'Look honey, didn’t you take a health class in junior high? With a drink right under you half the time, the vapor is absorbed into your blood through the air and then that blood goes to the fetus and poisons it.'

Owner and I exchange a look and realize we won’t get anywhere with her.

Owner: 'So we can have Ella serve you or I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do.'

Mr. Karen: 'We’re not leaving until she’s fired!'

Owner: 'We can’t help you.'

Mr. Karen: 'I’ll call the police! You’re an accomplice to child abuse!'

Owner: 'There is no child abuse to speak of, sir. Please leave.'

Karen (getting crocodile teary): 'YOU MAY NOT THINK A FETUS IS A CHILD, BUT I WAS TAUGHT TO BELIEVE LIFE BEGINS AT CONCEPTION AND I WILL STAND UP FOR ALL LIVING THINGS BIG AND SMALL BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT MY LORD AND SAVIOR WANTS ME TO DO!'

The entire time she’s delivering this tearful speech she’s looking around expecting others to, I don’t know, join in with her? Applaud?

Owner: 'You’re disturbing my customers and if you don’t leave right now, you’ll be trespassing. So leave now or I’ll have to escalate this, which I really don’t want to do.'

Karen: 'JESUS IS LOVE AND JESUS SAID THIS IS NOT OKAY. JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK IT’S OKAY TO ABUSE A CHILD IF IT’S SMALL ENOUGH—'

This is an Irish pub and the owners are devout Catholics. She wasn’t having any of this.

Owner: 'HEY. I don’t need anyone telling me what Jesus said. If there were abuse here, I’d have acted to stop it but there isn’t any. I need you to please leave.'

Mr. Karen: 'I’m calling the police.'

Owner: 'Do that.'

We just stop trying to service their table. As we all wait for the cops to arrive, Karen keeps trying to give her sermon, but there was a game on that people had come to watch and eventually everyone yelled at her until she piped down.

Enter Awesome Officers, AO1 and AO2.

AO1: '(Town name) Police department. Is there a Mr. Karen in here somewhere?'

Mr. Karen: 'Right here officers!'

AO1: 'You said you were witnessing child abuse– are the parties involved still in the bar?'

They point me out. I pretend not to notice because I’m worried they’ll take them outside and I won’t be able to watch any more fireworks.

AO2: 'So, what exactly was going on?'

Karen: 'That woman was drinking! She’s pregnant, you can plainly see she’s very pregnant.'

Before I can go over and tell them she’s lying about my drinking, the officers look at each other and look back at the Karen family.

AO2: 'That’s not illegal.'

Karen: 'WHAT?!?!!!!!??!'

Mr. Karen: 'Look here now—'

AO1: 'It’s definitely not recommended, but it isn’t illegal. Now, do you know the woman. Is she a friend of yours? Family?'

Karen: 'She works here. In a bar. And she’s pregnant!'

Mr. Karen: 'I want to see this place’s drink license revoked.'

AO2: 'So, listen, she isn’t doing anything illegal. What I can do is I will talk to her, but we can’t take any action beyond that. Is there anything else you observed that you’d like to report?'

So AO2 comes over to me and takes me to a quiet spot while AO1 is getting their personal information and taking the rest of the statement. Karen is crying again and I assume bemoaning being the last bastion of good Christian morality in this bar.

AO2 introduces himself and congratulated me on the pregnancy and says I probably overheard why they were called starts to offer me some public resources for new mothers, parenting classes etc. I didn’t want to interrupt him, so was waiting for the right moment to interject with my innocence.

That’s when patrons come over thinking I’m in trouble and start defending me. We have plenty of regulars who know me and they would not let this bull stand. They even complained to the officers that the owner had asked the Karen party to leave and they’d continued to make a scene.

So Awesome Officers go talk to the owner who said she was just about to call them, but sirens outside are bad for business and she was hoping the Karen's would eventually leave on their own.

The officers tell the Karen party they need to leave.

Mr. Karen: 'This is a public place I have every right to be here if I want!'

AO1: 'No sir, this is a private business and the business owners have asked you to leave. It sounds like more than once, but at least once since we’ve been here.'

Karen: 'THIS IS A DISGRACE. THIS IS AN AFFRONT TO...TO...TO SCRIPTURE AND CHILD SAFETY AND—'

AO2: 'I understand you’re upset. Let’s talk about it outside.' (He places a hand on Mr. Karen and gives him a firm look.)

This next part was said as Mr. Karen walks out backwards so he can keep yelling at us, but bumping into things every step of the way.

Mr. Karen: 'I’ll be contacting the authorities about your drink license. I happen to be close personal friends with the mayor! And you two, I want badge numbers. Don’t think we’re done here because we haven’t even started.'

So the officers took them out and, as it was told to me by a regular who left around the same time, walked the Karen’s to their car, which was illegally parked in a handicap space, for which they were ticketed.

They did make a complaint to the drink authority, claiming among many things that we served minors. We were investigated, but obviously came up fine."

Some Things Just Can't Be Done

"I'm a hostess at a pub during breaks from school.

Nothing special, just your run of the mill Irish pub. I'm scheduled to work Sunday Brunches every week, normally these are no big deal unless there's a game on. When the world cup final rolled around, naturally things got very busy very quickly. Whenever there's a special event like that on TV, we can expect to have a wait list about 30-minutes long on a good day.

One Sunday morning, I was the only hostess on staff during the world cup final. Because of this I didn't have time to talk to customers any more so than, 'Here is your table, your server will be right with you. Enjoy!'

Things are running smoothly, if not a bit chaotic for most of the morning.

Then this mom shows up. She comes in and requests a table in view of multiple different TV's as she has a large family, and I oblige giving her the last table in the only section with more than one TV. The table is in full view of 3 TVs and partial view of a fourth with only a support beam in the way of 1 seat at the table.

This woman looks at the table, thanks me for the service and goes to sit at the one chair partially blocked by the support beam.

'This simply just won't do!' she says. After asking what's wrong with the table and showing her the three other TVs in view, she proceeds to get very upset.

'I can't see the game on the biggest TV! This pole is in my way!'

I'm getting really annoyed at this point as this woman is preventing me from doing my job and a line of people is forming at the host stand that I cannot serve. I try to explain that this is the only section with multiple different TVs and ask if she'd be okay with a booth in view of a singular screen instead. No dice. She insists that this table is the only one that will be capable of pleasing her family, and then asks me to move the 'decorative pole' so she could see.

I tried to explain by politely saying, 'Ma'am, this is a support beam. I cannot move this.'

At this point, I've been standing here for a solid 5 minutes during one of the busiest shifts of the year, so I'm getting fairly annoyed with this woman.

We go back and forth about the support beam and eventually she gives up with me and then asks one of the servers to move it for her, claiming 'That hostess girl was just too weak to move this. Can you please move it for me and my family?'

The server naturally told her the same thing. After that, she decides to just deal with the table and 'decorative pole' while constantly complaining to the server about it throughout her meal.

Months later, I still give her that exact table every time she comes in out of spite.

PSA: Be nice to your hostess and wait staff, they deal with a lot of idiots."

"Don't You Dare Tell Me How To Raise My Child"

"This took place a couple of years ago. When I was 17, I used to spend part of my summers helping in my grandpa's restaurant. The restaurant was located in the bottom floor of our family house in a little village (30 inhabitants) and my great-grandparents (the parents of my mom's mom) lived in the upper floor. In the restaurant, my great-grandmother and my grandma were in charge of cooking and my great-grandparents and grandpa were in charge of attending the tables.

It was kind of small as it had like 8 tables of four on the inside and we could set another two outside if the weather was good. The restaurant also served as a bar, so it was oftentimes filled with locals. Many of them were retired and would spend the whole day playing cards and drinking. Although it was a small location, we were usually full of people in summer. My great-grandparents founded this restaurant in the year 1941, therefore it was pretty well known and had a good reputation among the locals. I'm also proud to say that my great-grandparents were very loved in their community as they really were great people.

Although it was a quite remote place, during the summer we used to get like 4 or 5 groups of tourists per week. The rule was that my brother and I were in charge of serving their tables as we were the only ones who knew any other language than Spanish.

Our opening hours at the time were from 12:00 pm to 10:30 pm, but the kitchen was only opened from 1:00 pm to 3:00 pm and from 7:30 pm to 9:30 pm. We only served one menu, composed by a starter, two main dishes, dessert and cider or water.

It was around 4:00 pm, therefore most of the customers had finished eating and were chatting over a cup of coffee or some other drink. My grandparents and great-grandparents were still eating as they waited until everyone was finished. My brother and I were in charge of serving the tables just in case anyone wanted something else to drink.

Suddenly, we hear a car outside and I can hear a woman loudly speaking in English, as soon as they enter this happens:

Entitled Mother: 'We would like to have a table... X from the Y Hotel told us this was a great place to eat.'

Me: 'I'm sorry ma'am but the kitchen is already closed as it's kind of late.'

Entitled Mother: 'Yes it's late because we got lost on the darn roads! Is it so difficult to put proper signals? Also, we have a little kid that is hungry.'

Me: 'Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Let me check If I can do something for you.' I then went inside and explained the situation to my grandma who told me to attend them as everything was already prepared and it would be just heating the food.

Entitled Mother: 'Well are you going to give us a table or not? If the kitchen is closed how is it that those people are eating?' as she points to my grandpas.

At the moment, I thought she was behaving like that because she was kind of hungry. I wasn't really used to dealing with rude people, as the majority of tourists used to be really respectful.

Me: 'Well those are the owners, so they can eat whenever they want. (I said this while laughing a bit) Anyway, I just asked if the kitchen is still open for a few more orders and it is, so please follow me to your table.'

They follow me to the table and I explain to them that there is only one menu. They give me a strange look but seemed ok with that. I serve them the bread and I put a bottle of water on the table. They start devouring the bread so my, They were a bit rude because they were hungry, theory seemed to be confirmed.

As soon as I bring the starter, the Entitled Father demands to have the Wi-Fi password.

Entitled Father: 'Hey, we have seen that there is a Wi-Fi network, what is the password?'

Me: 'Yes, there is one. However, the Wi-Fi is for the staff personal use.' (We had a measured and reeeeally slow connection that had like 5Gb of data which my grandpa used for checking some newspapers and my brother and I used for sending whatsapps to our friends.)

Entitled Father: 'That's a bunch of bull! We are paying customers and we deserve to have access to your Wi-Fi!'

Entitled Mother: 'Yes, our little angel wants to watch some videos. We don't have any kind of internet access here!'

Me: 'Sorry, but as I have said it's for personal use.'

Entitled Mother: 'That's not right, this would be unacceptable in America.'

Me: 'Well, I'm sorry to inform you that we are not in America...'

Then the mom turns to her kid and tells him something, and then he starts running around the restaurant stomping his feet and shouting. My Great Grandparent comes to me and ask me what is happening, so I explained the whole situation to him and he ask me to please translate what he is going to say.

Great-Grandparent: 'Please lady control your child, or I will have to ask you three to leave.'

Entitled Mother: 'DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY CHILD, YOU DINOSAUR!'

Entitled Father: 'DON'T GET CLOSE TO MY CHILD YOU OLD CREEP!'

By this point, everyone is looking in complete disbelief of these morons. I hesitated for a second but translated all of this to the Great-Grandparent expecting a not really nice reaction. Instead of saying anything he slowly turns around and ask two men who are sitting on a table to take the whole family out of his restaurant. I proceed to explain to the family that if they don't get out, those two men who also happened to be two Guardias Civiles (like rural police forces) would be taking them out.

They don't seem to believe that those two men were policemen and they refused to leave until we served them.

Finally, both men stood up, showed their plaques and asked them (in their best English) to leave.

The Entitled Mother, Entitled Father and their spoiled kid finally stood up and left. As they were leaving the policemen realized that they had parked in front of our garage blocking it (in a zone signaled as a no parking zone) so they decided to ask for their rental car papers while taking a couple of photos and giving them a $221.81 fine for blocking a private property garage."

"Do I Look Like I Work For McDonalds?"

"I used to work at McDonald’s when I was a teenager. I’m also deaf, but I read lips. I developed bacterial meningitis and became fully deaf at the age of 12. I can still speak since I learned to speak before I became deaf and most of the customers I got there were very understanding, except one.

I was working front counter that day as I usually did so I was basically in charge of inside customers. This was the easiest position for me as I could see the customers and read their lips. A middle-aged lady (Entitled Mom) and her 9 or 10-year-old son walk in and I say...

Me: 'Hi, welcome to McDonald’s.'

I say this while signing it at the same time. She doesn’t look up and is looking down at her phone, so I can’t see her lips and I can’t understand what she’s saying. So I explain...

Me: 'Excuse me ma’am I’m deaf, but I read lips! Can you look up for me please?'

She rolls her eyes and I clearly see she says.

Entitled Mom: 'Why would they let a dummy work the front counter?'

I am appalled by her behavior but just try to pretend like I didn’t see it. I smile and say...

Me: 'What can I get started for you today?'

She starts to patronize me by speaking very, very slowly, which fun fact actually makes it 1000x harder to understand what you’re saying.

Entitled Mom: 'I pause want pause a pause DIET pause COKE.'

Me: 'Okay is that all?'

Entitled Mom: 'And a Happy Meal toy'

Now all of our drinks are a dollar no matter the size, but you have to PAY for a happy meal toy. We don’t just give them out for free. I ring her up and she’s shocked. She demands to know why I’m discriminating against her son and forcing them to pay for a happy meal toy. I really don’t want to cause any trouble and I wish I could say I told her where she could shove it, but I ended up just giving her the toy for free.

I thought I had avoided conflict, BUT OH BOY WAS I WRONG.

I told her the total was $1.06 and after she paid I handed her a large cup and motioned for the guy behind her to move forward. She waves a hand in my face and points to the drink cup

Me: 'Yes ma’am?'

Entitled Mom: 'You never gave me my drink!'

I just thought she didn’t see the machines behind her, so I pointed to drink machine and said...

Me: 'Oh there’s a drink station behind you where you can fill up your drink.'

I kid you not, word for word, she said, 'That's your job, do I look like I work for McDonald's?'

My jaw hit the floor. I had never had someone be so rude in my entire life. I ended up telling her that when you come inside you fill up your own drinks because of sanitary reasons, but when she kept on pushing at me I ended up just using our drive thru drink machine to give her the DIET coke. While I’m making the drink, my coworker taps me on the shoulder. I see her son making fun of me to his mom by pretending to sign and just in general being a bully. His mom didn’t punish him or tell him off, instead she encouraged him and started to make fun of me with him. I went to the back and ended up bawling my eyes out. I felt incredibly embarrassed and like I had made a fool of myself by having a disability. I turned in my two weeks notice about a week later and haven’t worked in fast food since.

To everyone reading this, please be kind to people especially your fast food workers. It’s a tough job, even if you don’t have any disability. And if you see people who have disabilities working and trying to make a living, please be patient and help us out by just letting us do our thing and make us feel welcome. Thank you."

"You Can Sell It To Someone Else"

"My dad owns and runs a restaurant in New Delhi. The other day a typical 'Karen' came in with her four kids and did all kinds of Karen things.

One of the desserts on the menu is Bengali Malpua. Karen demanded Rajasthani Malpua, which is a bit different and is not served at the restaurant. She caused a scene and ranted about how incompetent the kitchen staff must be and that the restaurant should give her a discount for not getting her Rajasthani Malpua.

'How dare you?' was uttered several times. My dad had to go out and calm her down. He explained to her that no, the restaurant wasn't going to give her a discount for not having something in the menu, and that the recipes for the two desserts were quite different and only one of them was made there. She finally calmed down.

Her four kids were as annoying as her. They screamed, ran around, threw food around. Several of the other customers complained. Karen had to be told to keep them quiet, otherwise she would be asked to leave. Karen whined about how the other customers should just mind their own business and begrudgingly told her kids to sit quietly.

She and her kids had ordered chicken and rotis. One of her kids had barely picked at his food. When she was presented with the check, she argued that she shouldn't have to pay for the meal that one of her kids hadn't eaten.

Because according to her infinite wisdom, 'He only ate a few morsels, you can sell it to someone else. I shouldn't have to pay for it.'

Karen looked like she had been sucker punched by a bunny rabbit when she was informed that's not how this works and that she would be paying for the whole meal. She started another rant about how 'ridiculous' this system was. Thus began another round of introducing Karen to logic.

My dad had to go out there again to confront her. He told her in no uncertain terms that she WILL have to pay for everything she had ordered regardless of how much of it was eaten. By this time, even some other customers began to chime in and let her know that she was crazy...

Ultimately, Karen did pay, while grumbling about how my dad scams people.

She then left in a chauffeur driven Hummer.

Unsurprisingly, she didn't tip."

"How Dare You Tell Me Not To Do That!"

"A little bit of back story...

My sister owns a 100% vegan restaurant in Sitges, Spain (near Barcelona) and the restaurant’s name is ‘Spice Garden’ for those who are wondering. She told me this story of an entitled mother and her entitled kid that came in there to eat one day.

When they come in, they seem like normal people. A waiter hands them the menus and they start looking at them. Some time later, the waiter comes back and asks if they’re ready to order. Here’s how the conversation went:

Waiter: 'Are you ready to order, ma’am?'

Entitled Mother: 'We can’t find anything tasty on this menu.'

Waiter: 'Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is there a way I can help?'

Entitled Mother: 'Well, I was thinking I could get some burgers from McDonald’s and come here to eat them, since we’re here.'

Waiter: 'I’m sorry ma’am, you’re not allowed to take outside food with you into restaurants. AND this is a vegan restaurant, so it wouldn’t be good either way. You can leave if you’d like.'

Entitled Mother: 'EXCUSE ME? I am YOUR client so I can eat what I want here! How DARE you tell me not to do that?!'

Waiter: 'Ma’am please don’t argue, as I said this is a VEGAN restaurant and you’re not allowed to bring outside food! If you don’t leave in the next minute, I will be forced to make you leave myself.'

The Entitled Mother and Entitled Kid leave the restaurant. I am still weirded out to this day as to how this Entitled Mother had the audacity to eat meat in a vegan restaurant!"

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