Rhonda and Walt, an absolutely bat shit insane elderly couple, made quite an entrance at the very end of a recent lunch shift. She entered first, on a scooter, and he followed, both hurriedly heading towards a booth of their choosing despite having never dined with us before (a booth in my section, of fucking course).
"Where's the veggie burgers, y'all got veggie burgers?" Walt asked as he strolled right past me. I soon suspected they'd saved up enough money recycling cans or stealing from vending machines to dine in a restaurant, because I can promise it's not a regular occurrence.
"Anything to drink?" I asked them.
"NO!!!!" Rhonda yelled as if I'd just asked to take a peak at her vagina. "Read me the menu."
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Read me the menu," she said once more.
Looking at Walt for help, or at least a clue, I was discouraged when he just stared at his upside down menu for a second, turned it over, and offered no assistance at all.
"We have chicken. Burgers. Steaks? And fish." I said.
"What comes with the chicken?" she asked.
"What comes with the veggie burger?" Walt asked immediately after.
"What comes with the chicken?" she asked again.
Eyes rolled back, I rattled off the ingredients of our various chicken dishes, the main one including spinach and rice (important for later).
"What's this rice dish?" she asked, pointing to the menu she could now miraculously read.
"It's our Moroccan Rice, it's a vegetarian entr..."
"I WANT THE CHICKEN!" she yelled.
Walt continued staring at the menu. When I once again asked if they wanted something to drink, they both shook their puzzled heads "no." After about three minutes of being expected to wait while Walt perused, I snapped that I'd be back after dealing with my 15 other tables, and stormed off. I dealt with my newer guests, took care of their orders, and returned to the sanitarium.
"I WANT THE RICE INSTEAD!" Rhonda yelled. Walt ordered - wait for it - a veggie burger, with a cup of tomato soup as his choice of side.
The food arrived, and Rhonda waved her arms in the air at me like a Titanic survivor. I approached.
"WHERE'S THE CHICKEN?" she asked.
"WHERE ARE MY FRIES?" he asked immediately after.
"You ordered the rice," I reminded her.
"Noooooo I didn't," she said.
"You did," I said. "But if you want the chicken, we can get you the chicken."
"Where are my fries?!" Walt asked again.
"You asked for a cup of tomato soup as your side," I said. "Remember?"
"Yeah? So? A burger should come with fries," he informed me.
There's so much I left unsaid, so much that would have sailed right over the heads of these two, who were easily the dumbest people I've ever met. So instead, I found my calm, and as if I'd just watched a corporate training video on customer service, I gave a forced smile and said, "You know what? I am unsuccessful in achieving your guest satisfaction, my chief concern. One moment, please, while I grab our manager."
I stormed off and made our manager handle these two. Because I stood far away, glaring at them from the kitchen, I couldn't overhear their conversation. My manager told me they wanted 1) their chicken and veggie burger boxed up and 2) two free desserts because we "messed up" their orders. The manager said no to the latter.
Fortunately for me, because this was the tail end of lunch, I transferred Walt and Rhonda to one of the just-arrived dinner servers, pretending to apologize profusely. Thirty minutes later, after I'd completed my sidework and cash-out, I made my way through the parking structure. I said some expletives when I saw there was a rare amount of traffic to get out.
Turns out Walt and Rhonda were blocking both directions of traffic as he tried to reverse in his Buick; he'd been driving back into the parking structure instead of out.