When Your Guests Mortify You

[KatieLoeb]

These are pretty impressive tales of mortification, I dare say. The sugar packet and jelly eating interviewee is mind boggling. Is there such such a thing as an anti-diabetic??

Putting bigots in their place is a favorite pastime of mine, so I'm a big fan of freaking out the WASPy Rhode Island mom-of-boyfriend. Great story. I wonder if she actually learned anything from it or has continued to spew anti-Semitic rhetoric only amongst an audience she's certain shares her views.

Feet and toenails at the table are just wrong. Always. Never appropriate under any circumstances. These are the folks I suspect were raised by wolves. I mean, really. Does one leave toenail clippings at the restaurant because they sweep up more often than one does at home?? What was the logic behind deciding that was the appropriate place to do that? I'm at a loss here.

Unfortunately, working in the bar/restaurant business for so long, I have oodles of stories about how my guests offend me, but there should probably be a separate thread about embarrassing customers.

[JeanneCake]

O.M.G. these stories are funny, and I'm embarrassed right along with you who were there to see it firsthand.

I can't even handle the noise of nail clipping when it's done in the bathroom at home. I cannot even comprehend doing that in public. Why? Why?!

Katie, please, let's hear your stories! Start a new thread and keep the laughing going.....

[Underfoot]

These are pretty impressive tales of mortification, I dare say....there should probably be a separate thread about embarrassing customers.

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Oh I have a classic embarassing customer story. And it is here.

[Meanderer]

Oh, my grandfather ... I do love him dearly. But he's at that age where the little voice inside your head that stops you from saying potentially embarrassing things is silent all too often.

My grandfather has always been a rather outgoing individual and loves to go out to eat and chat it up with the waiter/waitress. By the end of the evening, he'll know where they are from, what high school / college they are attending, whether they are married and have children, etc. And unless we are in a real old-school restaurant (steak on one plate, potato on a separate plate, parsley to garnish), he assumes that being a server is a transitional job. Even in several of the high-end places I've taken him to.

We were dining in a local establishment about 9 years ago that I frequented on a semi-regular basis and my grandfather was doing his normal "interrogation" of our poor waiter. When he asked him what he was studying in school, the poor lad replied, "Vocal studies in opera." To which my grandfather replied (in an all too loud voice), "OPERA! What the hell are you going to with OPERA?!?"

I wanted to crawl under the table. Needless to say, the waiter received an extra large tip that night from me.

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Some of the other diners might be highly annoyed by your grandfather for another reason. While he is chatting up the server or runner, my food, drink or check is not arriving at my table because staff time is being monopolized by him. Once, I had to get up and walk over to another table to get the server's attention(her back was to us)just to get the bill because the diners at that table were so intrigued by the fact that they actually knew someone who was attending the same college as the server. That scintillating conversation, plainly audible to us, lasted a good 10 minutes.

[Syrah]

I will never set foot in an Asian restaurant with my stepfather ever again. Ever.

[Poffertjes]

And then there's my friend's husband, who will spend the entire dinner telling us about all the money he has, about his wine collection, how the restaurant we took them to has an "okay wine list, but if they got a chance to look at my cellar...", has the waitstaff running back and forth to cover his every demand, question, and extra condiment request, and then leaves 14.5 percent tip

i'm pretty sure i know your friend's husband.....

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Isn't he an ass?!?!

But still, every 3 months or so we have to go out to dinner with them...

Whats worse is last time, when we ate at their house and he ruined a beautiful $70 piece of beef by roasting it to medium rare, which according to him was 155 degrees....

[mollybloom1109]

The last restaurant I worked in was an Italian Family Place, a little upscale for the area (it is Tennessee, ya'll). Every week, like clockwork we had a family that came in and let their 4 yr old eat all the shredded Parmesan cheese out of the little container on the table...eating it with the little serving fork provided...I once did a little manager visit to that table and the mother said that her daughter looked forward to visiting our restaurant just for that reason....bad behavior just starts early I guess....

[racheld]

-+I was the host only by dint of paying the check, and in no way connected to the restaurant, and I've probably told this little tale somewhere in another thread, but the parm kid reminded me of my sister's dear friend JohnnyBean.

She was a lovely young woman and had grown up near us, going off to college, being absolutely brilliant at everything she did, winning all sorts of scholarships and awards, and going on to teach French for several years.

She also WENT to France to spend at least every other Summer, and one evening, we saw part of her financial planning. I took the two young ladies and my three children to dinner in a nearby town, and saw for myself some of her legendary economic maneuverings to save her pennies.

Sis had told me of JB's propensity to fulfil all the cheap tricks that waiters have come to dread, laugh at, and scorn---ordering a pot of tea only, making the cup with the bag, and immediately asking for "more hot water" with which she made herself that ketchup/sugar/salt/pepper/butter/whatever else was on the table soup, eating all the crackers and rolls from the complimentary baskets. She carried a handful of baggies in her big net market-basket purse, and when she left the table, all transportable edible goods went with her.

So we ate dinner, with my waiting for the klepping to begin. Nothing happened during dinner, as she was ordering and I was paying. We had dessert and coffee, and as we rose to leave, I headed for the register to pay the check. She was the last to leave the table, and I glanced back to see her standing there, no remorse, no shame, just pouring salt and sugar into baggies and neatly fingerthumb grabbing all the Sweet n Low packets for dropping into her purse.

We stood and watched in dismay for a moment, in a roomful of people that we KNEW and went to church with and saw across our business counter every day, as she methodically gathered up every usable food item.

Then, as she picked up a handful of those little butterpats with the cardboard trays and bit of waxed paper atop, that lovely, melodious voice which had mastered all the nuances and inflections to make French her own, that joyous, beautiful voice which had read to me in Moliere's own tones---she bellowed across the room:

"DOAN CH'ALL WANT SOME A THIS BUDDER?"

[hummingbirdkiss]

My mother of my heart was a tiny 90lb woman from Providence RI ..she was the most amazing and totally crazy lady on the planet..well traveled..love to eat wonderful food ...a horrible cook but she knew what was good that was for sure ... and a hard core Irish Catholic said a Rosary every day...raised me to believe that "your soul is your business so you better be good" ..that said ...at 87yrs old a little dementia had crept up in her ..she was off the wall anyway so it was pretty hard to notice ..but she was always sweet, polite and as she said "I would not say the word s$%t if I had a mouth full of it"....that was about as bad as it got for her ....ever.....

So a couple of years ago I went to visit her and we first had to go to our absolute favorite Italian place in South Providence..(still there/still fantastic...thank God something's never change)

we walk in, graciously seated...we order wine ..sip away ...and are looking over the menu ...two sips into her wine my dear sweet Helen looks up at the waiter at the table next to us ..who is taking someone's order btw...in a very loud and puzzled tone and a good old fashoined Providence accent ..."Look at how tight yaw pants ah where the Hell do you keep your shloong(sp?) ????"

that not only set the tone for the evening it also added a considerable amount to both our bar tab and our tip ...the staff was wonderful ...treated her like gold..

[racheld]

JohnnyBean and I retreat from the field in disarray, bowing to the Master.

[Busboy]

The last restaurant I worked in was an Italian Family Place, a little upscale for the area (it is Tennessee, ya'll).  Every week, like clockwork we had a family that came in and let their 4 yr old eat all the shredded Parmesan cheese out of the little container on the table...eating it with the little serving fork provided...I once did a little manager visit to that table and the mother said that her daughter looked forward to visiting our restaurant just for that reason....bad behavior just starts early I guess....

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Though, in this case (since no other tables were harmed) I could see reaching an accommodation for a 4-top that comes in every week like clockwork.

[KLwood]

Try having your guest pop out the breast and feed Junior in the middle of a restaurant " so he wont get fussy while we eat " I dont know who was freaked out worse, me or our waiter.

One of our alltime favorite family stories is the tale of my notoriously High strung Cousin stabbing my world class Asshole Uncle with a fork in a restaurant after a dispute over smoking while others were still eating. ( this was a few decades ago, but it still hasnt lost its nostalgic charm )

I once went to a restaurant with a guy that passed out cold after a second cocktail ( hardly his first two of the evening Im sure ) before the food arrived. Just what is the proper tip for a waiter that literally helps you carry your guest to a cab ?

[theisenm85]

Whats worse is last time, when we ate at their house and he ruined a beautiful $70 piece of beef by roasting it to medium rare, which according to him was 155 degrees....

Had steaks at my grandparents house once. We were standing out by the grill, talking to my step-grandpa.... I was watching the the steaks. When they were done I commented on how delicious they looked.... My grandpa says, "Just a couple minutes more".... warning sign..... I watched the millimeters melt away as he kept saying just a couple more minutes. Cooking abilities aside we're a loving family, so I managed to at least manage a "very good" as the rest of the family was complimenting the moistness...

As far as dining issues... I've been pretty blessed. Other than my Grandma who always gets our picture taken by the waiter... multiple times if it's not "good enough"

[rooftop1000]

Gee and we thought our friend was bad with the Coke / Pepsi shtick everywhere we go..including a Chinese place where the waitress definatley did not speak much English and never did get the "joke"

Our next outing is well planned though, going to a Spanish restaurant and the friend speaks Spanish. He can annoy the waiter all he wants and I wont understand a word of it

T

[BeeZee]

Gee and we thought our friend was bad with the Coke / Pepsi shtick everywhere we go..including a Chinese place where the waitress definatley did not speak much English and never did get the "joke"

Our next outing is well planned though, going to a Spanish restaurant and the friend speaks Spanish. He can annoy the waiter all he wants and I wont understand a word of it

T

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Sounds like my FIL, who will ask any wait/busperson who sounds like they have a foreign accent..."where are you from?" in a booming voice (hearing aid never works right) then when they meekly tell him, he says "I've been there!" and says whatever random word he might know of their language.

[Jamie Lee]

I had a business colleague who I frequently dined out with. I think he prided himself on never ordering off the menu. And it wasn't just small subs - It was usually wholesale changes. Pick a meat from one plate, cook it differently, spice it differently. Add a starch from another plate, do the same. Replace sides with apps (cooked differently, of course.) He hated all cheese, but he'd order dishes like enchiladas and ask for them without cheese. (!)

I ended up taking him often to a Mongolian BBQ restaurant, since he could make his plate to his exacting details!

[tamiam]

Sis had told me of JB's propensity to fulfil all the cheap tricks that waiters have come to dread, laugh at, and scorn---ordering a pot of tea only, making the cup with the bag, and immediately asking for "more hot water" with which she made herself that ketchup/sugar/salt/pepper/butter/whatever else was on the table soup, eating all the crackers and rolls from the complimentary baskets. She carried a handful of baggies in her big net market-basket purse, and when she left the table, all transportable edible goods went with her.

So we ate dinner, with my waiting for the klepping to begin. Nothing happened during dinner, as she was ordering and I was paying. We had dessert and coffee, and as we rose to leave, I headed for the register to pay the check. She was the last to leave the table, and I glanced back to see her standing there, no remorse, no shame, just pouring salt and sugar into baggies and neatly fingerthumb grabbing all the Sweet n Low packets for dropping into her purse.

This new word "klepping" is perfect. I've witnessed the behavior that you talk about, but never in someone not of the white hair age group. I always blamed gramma's sugar packet collection on coming up through the Depression. If you ever tried to discuss her klepping, she would say that they wouldn't put the sugar, Sweet N' Low, jelly, etc. on the table if they didn't want you to have it. As she was taking the packs that the other folks had left behind on the neighboring table mind you.

[demiglace]

hummingbirdkiss Posted Yesterday, 10:03 AM

..."Look at how tight yaw pants ah where the Hell do you keep your shloong(sp?) ????"

still laughing...

Edited January 7, 2008 by demiglace (log)

[Malkavian]

I can't believe this didn't come to mind before..maybe it's because I avoid going out with this guy at all possible now...

My roommate (who is a cheapskate's cheapskate) will rant indignantly, angrily and LOUDLY about ANYthing on the menu that "is not a deal" in his eyes as if the venue is violating his God-given right to get a special price on something.

It isn't necessarily addressed to the staff, but everyone nearby gets to know his opinion on pretty much the entire menu and the drink specials, and whether he considers himself capable of doing item X at home for just as good, at a lesser cost.

Maybe I'm being too uptight, but I find it fairly embarassing. Not on a toenail-clipping-at-the-table level, granted...

[Dave Parrott]

I guess I have been fortunate. The worst thing I have had happen is a dinner companion ask for blu cheese a cesar.

Edited January 9, 2008 by Dave Parrott (log)

[racheld]

Maybe I'm being too uptight, but I find it fairly embarassing.  Not on a toenail-clipping-at-the-table level, granted...

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Despicable and nauseating as it is, the nail guy can clip just so often.

A Ranter with a Cause, however. . .

[CKatCook]

My sister's ex boyfriend came from a stuffy well to do Rhode Island Family.. The mother was not a fan of the Jews.. She came to dinner one night and I came down wearing a yamakah and did a prayer over the wine, over the bread, and of course used every Yiddish Expression I knew.. Needless to say it was a ROCKING DINNER and she didnt stay for dessert..

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Bravo!!!!

Every time I went into a resturant with my mother it was scene. If she didn't find anything to complain about, she insisted on talking in the loudest voice possible about her bowels. Top that off with the 1 dollar tip she left, I was mortified. (needless to say I would pull money out and add more to that...)

[Shelby]

I am NOT making this up.

A few years ago at a company Christmas dinner we went to the most expensive restaurant in town. The menu is a steak and taters kind of deal. Prime rib etc. REALLY good cuts of meat. The kind of place where you buy your side dishes separately.

Anyway.

A co-worker launched a dinner roll across a table at someone because she was angry about a conflict at work.

The whole restaurant saw.

And

She hit the wife of a totally different co-worker.

Who had cancer.

I could have died right there on the spot.

[zeffer81]

Although not up to par with some of the incredible experiences here...

My now departed grandmother who used to tell waiters, customer service reps, anyone else who was helping us, that they were cute and then turn to me in the height of my adolescence and say "isn't he cute, Zoe?" while the gentlman was still standing there. I always mumbled a quick "yes" or "uh, sure" and hoped he went away as quickly as possible.

or...

My father is not a gambling man. However, every year around Triple Crown time he puts a minimal (and when I'm talking minimal I mean about 5 bucks) amount on one or more of the races. No problem, let the guy do his thing.

It seems as if the entire country, or at least Philadelphia, was horse-crazy over Smarty Jones that year and my dad had whole-heartedly jumped on the Smarty bandwagon. This all occurs in and around May. My birthday is in mid-May and each year my parents take me and my boyfriend out to the restaurant of my choice for my birthday, usually a small BYOB.

The details are a bit fuzzy as this was a few years back but I selected the recquisite small, quiet BYOB for my birthday dinner. To my father's dismay, our reservation fell exactly at the the time of the race (I don't remember which one, specifically.) For a guy who is not into sports (I'm the sports fan in the family, believe it or not,) Dad was crestfallen that he would not be able to see the race. He asked if he could run across the street to the sports bar to watch the damn 2 minute thing. After much whining I was starting to get annoyed and stopped really listening to him.

Well, my birthday arrives and my parents pick us up to head over to the restaurant. My dad is strangely quiet about Smarty. As we're walking into the restaurant I notice something in his hand. What is it? What could it be? Is it...no... My dad had brough a portable RADIO to the fine restaurant to listen to the race. Not just any radio but a nicely yellowed one straight out of the 1950s. I was MORTIFIED.

Throughout our appetizers, he kept checking his watch and turned the radio on to a whisper despite my opposition. As the race started, he turned the ancient monstrosity to FULL VOLUME and started cheering! "Go Smarty, go Smarty, gosmartygosmartygosmarty!!!!!!!!" It gets progressively louder until the end when he shouts--at full volume "I WONNNNNN!!!!" Apparently he won the trifecta which awarded him I don't know, fifty bucks?

I think that's my most mortifying restaurant experience.

[Toliver]

Throughout our appetizers, he kept checking his watch and turned the radio on to a whisper despite my opposition.  As the race started, he turned the ancient monstrosity to FULL VOLUME and started cheering!  "Go Smarty, go Smarty, gosmartygosmartygosmarty!!!!!!!!"  It gets progressively louder until the end when he shouts--at full volume "I WONNNNNN!!!!"  Apparently he won the trifecta which awarded him I don't know, fifty bucks?

I think that's my most mortifying restaurant experience.

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This reminds me of the scene in "My Fair Lady" where Eliza, amidst the genteel crowd at the horse races, shouts out "C'mon Dover, move your bloomin' arse!"

I know you were embarrassed by this incident, but I think in 10 years or so it will be a story that could bring smiles and laughter with the retelling.