(I’m a waitress at a café. We have a really moody customer who just keeps complaining about everything. He asks for the manager but our owner, who is usually really sweet, kind, and caring, goes out to him. The customer and his daughter are sitting in our pavement area. I follow to clear some tables.)
Owner: “Sir, I’ve been told there’s a problem. How can I help?”
Customer: “It’s ridiculous! I wanted a can of drink and you only have bottles; my sandwich was so over-filled half of it fell out when I bit it, and my daughter’s milkshake is so cold she can’t drink it! We asked for…”
(Just then we hear shouting coming from another restaurant about 10 doors down.)
Other Café: “Stop him! Stop the kid on the bike! He stole my bag!”
(My boss suddenly flings her arm out and smacks the kid on the bike in the face with the tray she’s holding, sending him flying off his bike, with the stolen bags around his wrist. Everyone just stops what they’re doing and stares, silently. The other café customers come running and we soon hear police sirens. My boss then turns to the grumpy customer.)
Owner: “You were saying, sir?”
Customer: “Er… you know what? It’s a bit crazy now. I think we’ll just go…”
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