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5 posts about the most entitled customers to have ever stepped in a restaurant.

5 posts about the most entitled customers to have ever stepped in a restaurant.


Everyone has seen an entitled a-hole go off on an employee, but it seems to happen a lot in restaurants...

Here are five stories that onlookers and workers have shared on Reddit about hungry customers from hell:

1. 'Can You Commit a Crime Real Quick?'

Sillymuffin1028 writes:

I worked at a restaurant that overlooks the ocean with a deck and patio people can eat on, which is very popular because of the harbor view. The restaurant is directly next to a fishing company's dock where they load their catch into a truck, and since that truck is the refrigeration for the fish until they get it to their store, it has to keep running.

It sounds like a slightly louder version of an idling car and personally, I don't see it as that much of a problem and most customers just ignore it. When people have an issue with it and we tell them it's a separate company and we can't do anything about it they either opt to sit inside or enjoy the view despite the noise.

However, there are of course a-hole exceptions... One day when I was hostessing and the truck was running, I sat a man and woman outside and our conversation went something like this:

Man: How long will the truck be on?

Me: I'm not sure as it is not our truck and I don't know how much they have to load today. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience and if the noise is a problem I understand and can get you a table inside.

Man: No, we want to be outside. Will they turn it off for us?

Me: No, unfortunately, they have to keep it on to keep the fish cold so they will not turn it off.

Man: Well, will you do it?

Me: Like me personally turn the truck off?

Man: Yeah, the door is open, just go in and turn it off.

Me: I don't even have a driver's license so I am in no way authorized to operate a commercial truck so you can sit here with the truck or sit inside.

This guy thought it was a reasonable request for me to leave my place of work mid-shift, hop into another company's truck, and potentially spoil all of their fish just so he and his date could eat exactly where they wanted to without the noise. I love the entitled stupidity that comes from working in the service industry in a very wealthy town.

2. Booth or Table?

glitteringgoats writes:

I went out to get lunch a couple Sundays ago. We were meeting at a fairly popular lunch spot that has both booths and tables. I'm going in and there's an older lady in front of me on her phone, on speaker phone having a full conversation. She was actually outside when I approached the door, but once she saw me she shot in, I'm assuming to get a table before me.

Whatever, I had a reservation.

So she goes in first, the host asks her how many, she says three while still on the phone. The host was obviously annoyed since this is very rude, but they brought her to a table nonetheless. Host comes back and asks me how many, if I had a reso, and if I wanted a booth or table. I said I didn't care about table or booth, but she gave me a booth and left me with two menus as I was still waiting for my husband.

A little while after sitting, the old lady comes up to me, not the host stand, not her waiter, but me, and asks me to switch tables with her as she wanted a booth and was technically here first.

I just stared at her.

She said again, I came in first and need a booth, please move for me. Still, just stared. I've worked in hospitality long enough to know how this works, ie she's going to pitch a fit to get her way. Eventually, she asks the host to ask me to move so she can have the booth.

To their credit, the host came over and said this lady was making an issue and asked if I would be willing to accommodate her. I declined and the message was relayed. She ended up yelling at the host that it was unfair that she was here first but didn't get a choice of table or booth. Love to say she just stormed out without getting a table or booth. Lunch was delicious.

3. A Sovereign Citizen

tokyoflex writes:

I was down in the basement office and the Hostess comes in. Tells me there's a man upstairs who won't wear a mask (mandated in our state in restaurants) and refuses to leave. He demands to speak with the Manager. No problem, I've only done this 894 times at this point. Up the stairs I go.

He's smugly leaning on the host stand.

Me: 'Sir, you have to wear a mask to be in here.'

Him: 'No, I don't.'

Me: 'Yes, you do. Please put one on or exit the building.'

Him: 'I know my rights.'

Me: 'Then you should know we are currently under a mask mandate in this state and we're not going to serve you without one.'

Him: 'You can't force me.'

Me: 'I'm not trying to force you. I'm simply telling you your options. Mask or leave.'

Him: 'I am a sovereign citizen and I don't abide by any laws or mandates set by any government. You hold no authority over me or my person. You are required to serve me as I am.'

Me (in my brain): Oh for f***'s sake.

Me (out loud): 'I am also a sovereign citizen, and you are currently in a sovereign restaurant. You are on sovereign ground and are subject to my requirements. I require that you leave immediately.'

Him: '.....'

Me: 'Please exit the building. You are trespassing on sovereign territory.'

Him: 'Well there's a lot of other restaurants in this town!'

Me: 'Plenty of options.'

Him: 'I guess I'll just spend my money somewhere else!'

Me: 'Great, we agree.'

Him (storming out): 'This is discrimination! You'll hear from my lawyer!'

Me (calling after him): 'As a sovereign citizen like yourself, I neither recognize nor am under the authority of any court of law!'

Him: 'F*** off!'

I'm surprised he didn't film the whole thing and camp out til the police came. What is wrong with people? Catch a sovereign boot in your ass.

4. 'Do you know who I am?'

So we were in this restaurant in central Mexico, and it was clear that it also got hit hard by the winds. The restaurant is basically a giant terrace, so it's pretty much outdoors inside the city. Upon entering, I noticed the owner on the floor next to the bar, fixing some stuff, he was wearing working clothes and was full of grease and stuff, so if you didn't know him already, you would think he was a worker in the restaurant.

This is when the entitled man (EM) shows up, while we were eating there was a blackout because workers of the electrical company were fixing a damaged power line nearby, so the TVs and the music went off. And this EM started whistling and screaming for the restaurant staff to do something, then the owner approached him and said that they would fire up their backup generator, and that please he be quiet in the meantime because it was no place to be causing a scene.

The EM went ballistic because he thought a worker was shushing him, so you know the usual, he hit the owner with the classic 'DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?', he was yelling and telling him that he knew the owner, and that he was going to get him fired and the like, that he wanted to speak to the manager because he was paying a lot for the service being so sh*tty.

Obviously him knowing the owner was a blatant lie because he was in front of him, just with working clothes, and EM was probably trying to show off because in his table there was another man and two visibly embarrassed women. The whole restaurant went quiet, because most of the costumers are regulars (my city is a popular vacations spot, so this is like a hidden restaurant that only locals know).

I always saw the owner as a gentle giant, because he's f*cking huge and pretty cool, but he got as red as a tomato and started yelling to the guy, I've had never seen him like that. I'm roughly translating what the owner said, his choice of words were... interesting, Spanish is such a beautiful language to tell someone to go f*ck themselves.

He told EM that the place was his fucking restaurant and EM was not welcome anymore, that he please picked up his companions and got the f*ck out of there. The owner told him that he didn't care a flying f*ck who he was, and that he didn't want his fucking money, he just wanted him gone.

EM was curled up in his seat being yelled at by the huge man, he stood up after that and quickly went to the exit, while yelling fuck you when he was at a safe distance. When it was all over the owner apologized to everyone in the restaurant and offered some free drinks and snacks. He's a pretty cool guy. BTW, we were without electricity for like 5 minutes.

5. The Fresh Pepper Fiasco

brother_p writes:

I like fresh ground pepper. My wife likes fresh ground pepper. My friends like fresh ground pepper. I particularly like it on my weekly Sunday breakfast which, as it happens, takes place in the same local neighbourhood diner as it has for 10 years. Alas, this diner deploys simple pepper shakers, inadequate for our tastes, so we bring along our own purse-sized mill.

Amazing start...

As usual, this past Sunday we were enjoying our breakfast, talking, laughing over stupid jokes -- the usual. At the table to our immediate right was a couple of about mid-50's (same as us) but unfamiliar to us, not regulars, and the man had a loud voice. So loud, in fact, that he made our conversation a little difficult. During a lull in our conversation, I heard him say 'pass the pepper.'

My friends then mentioned that they were going for a bike ride later and wondered if we'd like to join them. I thought it over, and just as I was about to answer I heard a scraping of a chair from the next table. Suddenly, the man with the loud voice was looming over our table.

'I SAID 'PASS THE PEPPER', goddammit!' he barked and reached across the table to grab my pepper mill. A cacaphony of protest, surprise, queries and exclamations followed. I managed to block his hand and looked up at him. 'Hey, what are you doing?' I demanded.

My friend, a very mild-mannered and gentle man, jumped to his feet and squared up. 'PASS. THE. PEPPER!' the man snarled again. 'What is so hard to understand?'

I quickly slid the pepper mill off the table and into my pocket, then I, too stood up. 'The pepper?' I asked. 'You mean my pepper? That isn't the communal pepper.'

'What the f*ck is wrong with you?' he shouted. 'I want the goddam pepper!'

At this point, his wife/girlfriend/companion, quicker on the uptake, realized his mistake and tried to get his attention. 'Roy, ROY, sit down -- it's not -- ROY! Listen!' she tried but Roy, doubling down and in high dudgeon, was not to be denied.

'Get that f*cking pepper out of your pocket and hand it over, NOW!'

Eyes were uncomfortably on us. Other tables were watching this play out in surprise and shock. At this point a server approached with her arms full of someone else's breakfast. 'Hey, guys, not sure what's going on, but I have hot food here. Coming through!'

As she passed, Roy shouted again and this time threw his hands in the air in a 'what the hell?' gesture. It all happened in a blur and before the server could duck, she was covered in sunny side up eggs, home fries and sausage.

'ROY!' the woman screamed.

'What the hell!' 'Hey!' 'Watch out!' 'Oh NO' and a dozen other exclamations from the onlookers erupted all at once. 'F*CK,' Roy shouted. 'See what you f*cking did?'

His wife had scrambled to her feet to assist the server who dropped the second plate as well. My wife also got up to help, and the owner, Donna, a sweet-faced 65 year old, suddenly emerged from the kitchen. 'What is going on?' she said, alarmed.

Everyone started talking at once, and Roy, alpha Roy, shouted over everyone.

'THIS A*SHOLE (indicating me) WOULDN'T PASS ME THE PEPPER!' he roared.

Donna gaped uncomprehendingly at him for a moment. She looked at the mess on the floor, the now red-faced and furious Roy, the other customers, and then at me.

'He . . . what? There's . . . pepper on your table . . . '

'ROY!' his wife screamed again 'APOLOGIZE NOW AND SIT. DOWN!'

'It's my pepper mill,' I said again, 'not the restaurant's.'

'F*cking idiot,' Roy shouted, 'why didn't you say something, as*hole?'

I laughed out loud and looked with amazed surprise at my friend. He stared straight at Roy and said in a quiet, but firm voice, 'Listen to your wife and sit. Down.'

Donna looked around at the mess and confusion. At this point, approximately 45 seconds had elapsed since Roy first lurched to his feet to steal my pepper. 'I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave,' she said to Roy. 'I can't have this in my restaurant.'

Roy's wife, nearly in tears, began apologizing rapidly and repeatedly. Roy started protesting and demanding that he get to eat his breakfast. Donna, sweet-faced but tough, told him he could leave voluntarily or she would have the police assist him.

'Roy, now!' his wife said. She left a wad of money on the table and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the door. 'I am so sorry,' she said to Donna and the server.

I guess he loves his pepper too.

Aaaaaand amazing finish.

Sources: Reddit,Reddit,Reddit,Reddit,Reddit
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