Update: It’s been about 7 months since I’ve quit my job as a barista and started working as a waitress. I know I haven’t posted in a while, but I’m going to try my best to keep you updated on my crazy customer experiences (and boy do I have a lot of them).

Dear Plain Omelette Lady,

Every Saturday and Sunday the restaurant I work at gets slammed. This is mainly because we offer our brunch specials that range from fried chicken and waffles to cinnamon roll pancakes, to a variety of omelettes.

Already I’m a little overwhelmed because I’m working a fast-paced section that continuously gets seated. By the time my guests leave, the table is already being cleaned, set, and sat again. While I generally try my best to greet a new table within a minute or so of them being seated, I also try to check in on my other tables by grabbing drink refills, clearing plates, or putting in orders.

We’re in the middle of our brunch peak and these three women get sat at one of my tables. Before I can even greet the women, a host comes up to me and says, “One of the women at table sixty-one is diabetic, can you grab her some bread?” Despite being in the middle of something, I run to the kitchen, cut some bread, and bring it to the table. Within seconds of putting the bread on the table, one of the older women, who I’m assuming is a great aunt, says to me, “My niece needs to eat as soon as possible. We need to order.”

I take out my server book and pen to start taking down orders and the niece goes, “I don’t even know what I want yet.” So I respond with, “No worries at all. Can I grab you something to drink?”

The women put in their drink orders and I go grab them. One of the women ordered an iced green tea. Whenever anyone orders an iced green tea we’re supposed to put a mint leaf as a garnish, but 99% of the time no one wants the garnish and they just end up throwing it on the table, so I leave the garnish out.

Before I can even open my mouth, the woman says, “Where’s the mint leaf?” Knowing it was my fault, I apologize and go grab a mint leaf for her. Of course, with my luck and with 50,000 other things I need to do, there are no mint leaves in the kitchen. So, I run over to the bar to grab some.

I return with the mint leaf and ask the women if they’re ready to order. The first woman orders one of our speciality omelettes with bacon, swiss, mushroom, and spinach. The third woman orders our other speciality omelette with avocado, ham, bacon, sour cream, salsa, and 10 other different ingredients. It comes time for the niece to order her omelette and she gets a plain American cheese omelette with no sides and requests hot sauce when it comes out. As I’m taking the order, the women keep saying over and over, “Our niece needs to eat as soon a possible. Tell them to cook it fast.” After putting in their order I let my manager know and she says, “I will definitely try my best to get it out to them as soon as possible. The omelettes cook pretty quickly but in the meantime offer her bread and orange juice.” Keep in mind, we’re still in the middle of our brunch rush and there are 40 orders on the screen. Not to mention, these women probably waited a good 45-60 minutes before getting sat so if they were in such a hurry to eat they could have gone to the 5 other restaurants in that mall that aren’t as busy.

After the women get settled in and I place their order, I return to my other tables. Within 10-15 minutes a food runner brings over one omelette and hands it to the niece. Keep in mind that whenever a food runner drops off food to a table, they always announce what the food item is. They don’t just hand it to the first guest they see. A minute or so later another food runner brings out the remaining omelettes and from the corner of my eye, I can see them yelling at her. I approach the table and say, “Is everything alright?” The niece looks at me and says, “No, it’s not. They gave me the wrong omelette and I put hot sauce all over it. Now my aunt can’t eat it.” So the niece shoves the spinach, bacon, mushroom, and swiss omelette at me. I apologize for the mistake and let them know that I will have it made again as soon as possible. While the aunt who’s omelette got sabotaged it completely okay, the niece has a giant scowl on her face, the same one she’s has since she entered the restaurant.

I go back to the kitchen with the omelette and have to explain to my manager that it needs to be remade because the women who order a plain American cheese omelette thought that the mushroom, bacon, spinach, and swiss omelette was hers. Keep in mind, THE TWO OMELETTES LOOK NOTHING ALIKE. The omelette that this woman doused her hot sauce in was filled with an abundance of ingredients in it and had two sides. The plain American cheese omelette is as flat as a sad pancake and had no sides whatsoever. HOW DO YOU MISTAKE THE TWO? YOU CAN’T.

Let’s throw this back to about seven months ago...

During the holiday season, my store undergoes a Christmas makeover. Red, green, and gold decorations fill the shelves, controversial cups line the bar, and seasonal drinks are plastered across the menu boards. One could say it looked like Santa threw up on the entire store. 

In addition to the festive decor, my company puts in an immense amount of effort to display cups, travel mugs, and pounds of coffee. The closer it gets to Christmas, the better the deals. 

At this specific time, we had our pounds of coffee on sale for $12.95 (they usually run at $15 or more). And if I remember correctly, this deal consisted of buying a pound of coffee for $12.95 while getting another one free. The catch to this though, was that the pound of coffee had to be one of our seasonal blends. 

It was a cold Thursday afternoon and customers were lining up out the door. My co-worker, Beth, and I (P.S. Her name isn’t actually Beth) were both ringing up customers while our shift manager was banging out drinks back to back. Then suddenly, Mr.Scrooge enters the building and everything turns to shit. 

Originally, Mr.Scrooge entered my line asking about the current deals on the coffee. I had just recently returned from a trip so I was unaware of what deals were happening. I turned to my shift, let’s call her Anne, and asked her what our coffee discounts were. Anne, in the middle of a 20 cup line rush, responded and told the man that our seasonal/holiday coffee was $12.95, buy one get one free. 

Already, as I’m watching Mr. Scrooge, I can tell he’s slightly irritated by something. While his wife is in the cafe, he runs back and forth to the shelf to negotiate what coffee he should get. At this same point in time, more and more customers were shooting through the doors. Finally, Scrooge gets back into my line, and he asks for a decaf coffee. During the winter, we tend to dump our decaf around 2 pm-2:30 pm because it doesn’t sell as much as our seasonal drinks. Instantly, he becomes irritated by this but I talk him into getting a half-caf Americano for the same price as a cup of coffee. He huffs and puffs but he settles on it. 

Next, he throws down two pounds of Sumatra onto my counter. I ring him up and while doing so even more customers begin to form a line. After processing the transaction, I hand him a receipt and he becomes infuriated. He starts asking, “Why didn’t the discount come off?” He then begins to take his anger out on me. 

Anne notices what’s taking place and begins to interject. She asks, “What’s the problem?” and Scrooge responds with, “I didn’t receive the discount.” Anne takes the receipt from my hand and notices the problem within seconds. She says, “You purchased two pounds of Sumatra. These are not Seasonal blends.” 

This was not what Scrooge wanted to hear. 

Immediately he starts yelling, “You told me that the coffee on that wall was discounted.” He then points at me and says, “I want my money back.” 

I start to punch in the return process and while doing so he begins to bicker back and forth with Anne. He goes off by saying, “You guys need to get your stuff together.” Annoyed by this, Anne stops what she’s doing in the middle of making a drink, looks him in the eyes, and says, “Thank you. But we are very together,” with the most passive-aggressive smile. 

Meanwhile, Beth and I are doing our best to ring up the other customers while Scrooge yells at Anne and requests her information so that he can call corporate. Anne gives him her first name but not her last, according to policy we’re not required to give this information. Finally, Scrooge realizes this is a battle he can’t win and marches out the door with his wife in hand. 

By the end of the rush, Beth and I look at each other acknowledging the uncomfortableness that just entailed.