I had to run over and scold him.
When I finished scolding the kid and dragged him back to the table to tell his mom what he had been up to, she barely acknowledged me except to order another round.
I told the chef what had happened and he blacklisted them from that point on."
"I worked at a place that had peanuts available for customers to chow on while waiting for their order. Believe it or not, the cleanest and most thoughtful peanut eaters were children. Inherently many were already picking up their own mess or using a cup/tray for litter. I was sweeping the dining area when this kid saw me and said, 'Hey, I help!' while showing me his tray full of peanut shells.
Enter this piece of crap dad. He grabbed his kid's tray with a, 'No buddy, we do this (tosses all the shells five feet across the tiled floor) here,' as he wiped crumbs off on his Dockers like it was no big thing, even with me busting my bum to clean just feet away from him.
That kid looked so embarrassed at even that young of an age, but I gave him the nod that I knew he was a helpful little guy. Man, I hated that job sometimes."
Lisa F. Young/Shutterstock
"Two younger moms (part of that religious cult where women don't typically work and wear blue jean skirts, all women tend to be on the heavier side, have long hair, no makeup, don't talk if husbands are present, but man will they sound off on you and get super bossy when they're alone) were regulars at my restaurant along with their families. Like almost every single day regulars, and these people were always demanding.
It was a lunch shift, and they came in with their two very young boys. I'd guess they were no more than a couple of years old at the time. As I was taking their order, the boys each took a sugar packet from the caddy, ripped them open, and poured them in the napkin basket. The basket held the big rectangle napkins and sani-hand wipes. They were my first customers at that table, and the boys ruined that basket and all its contents.
The moms caught me staring and told the boys in a meek tone, (because they're male), to stop making a mess. No one tried to grab the unused packets, no one tried to grab the basket from them, they just watched as the boys continued to grab more, and tore everything open. Then they looked back at me like, 'Why are you still here? Enter my order.'
I walked by later on, and the women were laughing, and the boys were coloring on the booth with their crayons, the moms periodically just verbally telling them to stop. I noticed the sugar caddy was empty and the war zone from all the fallen sugar packets and wet naps all over the table.
For some reason, and I can't remember where they got it, some older people came in and had a mini-birthday party, but someone gave these little miscreants chocolate cake. After the family left, it looked like someone had diarrhea and it exploded all over the whole booth.
I refused to wait on that family ever again. I had to clean that booth entirely by myself - and it took me forever.
Oh, and they tipped me $1. A freaking dollar. I distinctly remember them saying they wish they could have tipped me more, and promised to come back when they had more money to give me a little more - never did. They sat there nearly my entire shift, too. They were my official first dose of server frustration in my early waiting career stint."
"Over the summer, I worked at a place that had a 'Wild West' vibe to it. One of the decorations we had was an old vintage piano that they had managed to keep in good condition for lots of years. One day, I was working the breakfast shift and all of a sudden, I heard the piano playing loudly. There were signs on the piano telling people NOT to touch it, so I quickly ran over to see this little (6/8-year-old) SMASHING THE KEYS! He was legitimately hitting the keys full force. I tapped the kid on the shoulder and politely told him to stop even though I was furious because it was a beautiful instrument. I looked over to the child's parents, and they didn't even look at him or me. They just kept eating. I'm pretty sure that kid damaged the action on the keys, and it can't play anymore."
"The parents had been letting him tear around the restaurant to 'tire him out' while they were eating. I made several comments to them about it not being particularly safe for him to be running, full speed, around a busy restaurant on a Friday night, but they blew me off each time. So a little later, I was carrying a tray jack in one hand and a large tray full of food and drinks in the other hand. As I was approaching a corner, he came, full speed, around the corner and all I had time to do was flinch in a manner that wouldn't lead to me dropping a tray with a 40-pound load on top of this little prick. The flinch happened to put my knee in line with his face and he hit me. I didn't drop anything, so I just continued to the table, dropped off the food, and then went to find a manager to go talk to the inattentive parents."
"When I was a waitress, this couple came in with their two kids (aged about four and five). The kids took the silverware and were scratching our wooden tabletops with it. I came over and asked the parents to stop them, and the mom said flippantly, 'Oh, it's okay.
I responded by just saying: 'What?'
I'll never be able to get over what came out of her mouth next.
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