There have been a few incidents at the pub over the past few days that have really got us worried. We have noticed a sharp increase of VERY stupid customers, more idiotic than usual, and we have also noticed more aggressive customers. We were really confused about this, and after some investigating, we discovered that an extremely cheap pub on the other side of town has closed down. Because of this, their customers have spread throughout town, and we have ended up with a few of them. The clientele of this pub is known for being awful. When you hear of a fight breaking out in town, nine times out of ten it has happened outside this pub.
What are vegetables?
I was serving a rough looking woman at the bar. She looked like she had just crawled out of a car crash, and immediately decided she needed to go to the pub for lunch.
RW: Can I order the steak and kidney pie? But what are...veg...veg-ta-b-les?
Me: Vegetables?
RW: Yes. Vegetables. What are vegetables?
I have never been asked what vegetables are. I don’t think there are many people that have been. How do you answer that?
Me: The pie comes with a selection of vegetables. Usually carrots and peas, or broccoli and cauliflower.
RW: What are carrots?
Me: Carrots?
RW: Yes. What are they?
Me: An orange vegetable. You know, like Bugs Bunny eats.
RW: Oh, those things. I don’t know if I would like those. I thought they were for animals only. What about cauliflower? What’s that?
Me: It’s a white vegetable, it’s a little similar to broccoli.
RW: Well, I HATE broccoli, so I won’t like that, and I don’t like broccoli, so I won’t eat broccoli, and I don’t want animal food, and I have never eaten peas before.
Me: What about some salad instead?
RW: I’ve never eaten salad before. I don’t think I will like that.
Me: Mashed potato?
RW: Ew! Why would anyone eat mush potato?
Me: Mash. Not mush.
RW: Same thing. I don’t like anything on this menu. I will have a bottle of wine instead.
I wanted a bottle of wine after dealing with her.
She MUST have Salad!
A big family came in for lunch. Mother, father and five kids. They also looked rough. They were loud, obnoxious, and looked as though they have just walked straight out of the TV show Shameless. They ordered food, and before their meals had even arrived they had already made a huge mess with the condiments. I took the meals out to them, and decided to avoid them until they had left. The husband stormed over to me.
H: My wife is waiting for the side salad that comes with her meeeeeeeeal!
Me: The meal your wife ordered does not come with a side salad.
H: Well it does now! She has been waiting for the side salad to come over, so get me a side salad!
Me: It does not come with a side salad. If you want one, I will have to charge you.
H: I’m not paying for something that is supposed to come with the meal in the first place.
Me: Let’s just consult a menu.
I grabbed one off a table, and read the meal out to him. The word “salad” was not mentioned once.
H: Get her the side salad NOW.
Me: Don’t raise your voice at me. The meal does not come with a side salad. You want it, you have to pay for it.
H: She HAS to eat salad at the same time as she eats the rest of her meal! She won’t eat it otherwise!
Me: Well pay for it and it will be out in a few moments.
H: No!
Me: Well no side salad then.
He stormed off back to his table. I went to grab a manager to inform him of what was going on. As we headed back on to the floor, we spotted H running over to a co-worker with the plate in his hand.
H: THIS MEAL HAS GONE COLD NOW! GET ME A NEW MEAL AND A SIDE SALAD! NOW!
He literally shoved the plate into CW’s chest. She let out a loud yelp. Manager ran over.
M: What do you think you are doing? CW, are you OK?
CW: Yeah, I’m just a bit startled.
H: I told you to get me a side salad!
CW: You never told me anything! You just ran over and practically assaulted me with a plate!
H: Then who was I talking to before?
Me: Me! Can’t you tell the difference between a male and female?
H: Where is the side salad?!
M: It does not come with a side salad!
H: My wife will not eat this!
M: Then she’s going hungry. Finish your meals quickly and get the fuck out.
H: Huh...what....huh?!
M: OUT!
He went back to the table. It took about ten minutes for the family to leave, with the husband looking really confused. The wife’s meal was still untouched.
Lady Looks Like a Dude
A customer ran up to the bar.
C: Two men are fighting in the garden!
Several staff ran off the bar and were able to separate the fight. It took some doing, but we were able to calm down the situation and find out what was going on. I spoke to one of the men.
M: I am sorry we were fighting, it’s something that’s been building for months. I’m sorry, I just snapped.
Me: Well look, I appreciate you trying to apologise, but I have had to call the police.
M: OK, I understand that.
The gentleman was very calm about the whole thing, while the other person involved sat dazed in the corner. A few of us kept the two of them separate until the police arrived.
P: And who was involved in the incident?
Me: This gentleman here...
M: GENTLEMAN?!?!
Me: Uhh, yes...
M: I’M A WOMAN!!!!
Oh my God. It was actually a woman. The woman was large, had a shaved head, was wearing a track suit, had a very deep voice and even had facial hair. But it was a woman. The police officer started screaming with laughter and sent me back inside the pub before she tried to attack me.
What are vegetables?
I was serving a rough looking woman at the bar. She looked like she had just crawled out of a car crash, and immediately decided she needed to go to the pub for lunch.
RW: Can I order the steak and kidney pie? But what are...veg...veg-ta-b-les?
Me: Vegetables?
RW: Yes. Vegetables. What are vegetables?
I have never been asked what vegetables are. I don’t think there are many people that have been. How do you answer that?
Me: The pie comes with a selection of vegetables. Usually carrots and peas, or broccoli and cauliflower.
RW: What are carrots?
Me: Carrots?
RW: Yes. What are they?
Me: An orange vegetable. You know, like Bugs Bunny eats.
RW: Oh, those things. I don’t know if I would like those. I thought they were for animals only. What about cauliflower? What’s that?
Me: It’s a white vegetable, it’s a little similar to broccoli.
RW: Well, I HATE broccoli, so I won’t like that, and I don’t like broccoli, so I won’t eat broccoli, and I don’t want animal food, and I have never eaten peas before.
Me: What about some salad instead?
RW: I’ve never eaten salad before. I don’t think I will like that.
Me: Mashed potato?
RW: Ew! Why would anyone eat mush potato?
Me: Mash. Not mush.
RW: Same thing. I don’t like anything on this menu. I will have a bottle of wine instead.
I wanted a bottle of wine after dealing with her.
She MUST have Salad!
A big family came in for lunch. Mother, father and five kids. They also looked rough. They were loud, obnoxious, and looked as though they have just walked straight out of the TV show Shameless. They ordered food, and before their meals had even arrived they had already made a huge mess with the condiments. I took the meals out to them, and decided to avoid them until they had left. The husband stormed over to me.
H: My wife is waiting for the side salad that comes with her meeeeeeeeal!
Me: The meal your wife ordered does not come with a side salad.
H: Well it does now! She has been waiting for the side salad to come over, so get me a side salad!
Me: It does not come with a side salad. If you want one, I will have to charge you.
H: I’m not paying for something that is supposed to come with the meal in the first place.
Me: Let’s just consult a menu.
I grabbed one off a table, and read the meal out to him. The word “salad” was not mentioned once.
H: Get her the side salad NOW.
Me: Don’t raise your voice at me. The meal does not come with a side salad. You want it, you have to pay for it.
H: She HAS to eat salad at the same time as she eats the rest of her meal! She won’t eat it otherwise!
Me: Well pay for it and it will be out in a few moments.
H: No!
Me: Well no side salad then.
He stormed off back to his table. I went to grab a manager to inform him of what was going on. As we headed back on to the floor, we spotted H running over to a co-worker with the plate in his hand.
H: THIS MEAL HAS GONE COLD NOW! GET ME A NEW MEAL AND A SIDE SALAD! NOW!
He literally shoved the plate into CW’s chest. She let out a loud yelp. Manager ran over.
M: What do you think you are doing? CW, are you OK?
CW: Yeah, I’m just a bit startled.
H: I told you to get me a side salad!
CW: You never told me anything! You just ran over and practically assaulted me with a plate!
H: Then who was I talking to before?
Me: Me! Can’t you tell the difference between a male and female?
H: Where is the side salad?!
M: It does not come with a side salad!
H: My wife will not eat this!
M: Then she’s going hungry. Finish your meals quickly and get the fuck out.
H: Huh...what....huh?!
M: OUT!
He went back to the table. It took about ten minutes for the family to leave, with the husband looking really confused. The wife’s meal was still untouched.
Lady Looks Like a Dude
A customer ran up to the bar.
C: Two men are fighting in the garden!
Several staff ran off the bar and were able to separate the fight. It took some doing, but we were able to calm down the situation and find out what was going on. I spoke to one of the men.
M: I am sorry we were fighting, it’s something that’s been building for months. I’m sorry, I just snapped.
Me: Well look, I appreciate you trying to apologise, but I have had to call the police.
M: OK, I understand that.
The gentleman was very calm about the whole thing, while the other person involved sat dazed in the corner. A few of us kept the two of them separate until the police arrived.
P: And who was involved in the incident?
Me: This gentleman here...
M: GENTLEMAN?!?!
Me: Uhh, yes...
M: I’M A WOMAN!!!!
Oh my God. It was actually a woman. The woman was large, had a shaved head, was wearing a track suit, had a very deep voice and even had facial hair. But it was a woman. The police officer started screaming with laughter and sent me back inside the pub before she tried to attack me.
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