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The circumstances were slightly similar as well! See my old thread.
I was having a very bad night. Nothing seemed to be going right. I was still recovering from my bought of flu, and the bar was ten times busier than we expected (I have NO idea where all these people came from!!) The week between Christmas and New Year is usually our quietest week of the year, but for some reason, this year (or should I say, last year) was our busiest.
A group of four customers are sat down, two couples, both in their forties/fifties. The men call me over.
M1: Sucky Man 1
M2: Sucky Man 1's accomplice
W1: Sucky Man 1's Wife
W2: Sucky Man 1's accomplices wife.
M1: Excuse me, we are not happy with these steaks. They are undercooked.
Me: OK then, would you like me to throw them on the grill for a bit longer?
M2: NO! Just give us our money back!
Me: Are you sure? I could get you some free desserts...
M2: NO! Just the money will do!
I was too busy to argue. I got them a refund on the steaks. I went back over.
Me: There you go, sorry about that.
M1: Is it OK if we eat the rest of our meals and leave the steaks?
Me: Yeah sure.
W1: I'm sorry about this. I told him not to bother you...
M1: EXCUSE ME! I paid money for this! And I was not happy.
W1: Well, I just wanted you to know, I'm enjoying my meal.
W2: Me too!
Me: Thank you. I'm glad to hear it.
Those poor women.
I carried on. About twenty minutes later, a co-worker came up to me.
CW: Umm, there are two guys at the end of the bar who want to see the manager.
Oh joy! It was M1 and M2!
M1: We've been doing a lot of thinking, and we want all our money back.
M2: That's right! We want the money back for ALL the meals, and ALL the drinks we have had here tonight.
M1: Or we go to the police.
M2: That's right. Give us money, and all this will go away.
Me:
The police? What? I'm sorry, can we start from the beginning, you want ALL your money back?
M1: That's right.
Me: For all the food you ate?
M2: Yup!
Me: And the drinks you drank?
M1: Yeah!
Me: Or you'll call the police?
M1: Is there an echo in here? Yes, we will call the police. The meat you served is undercooked. We're taking it home with us, we are posting half of it to the police as evidence, and the other half to the news.
Me: For a steak??
A co-worker who was serving on the bar overheard. Her jaw nearly hit the floor, she also started to giggle.
M2: And it's not just for the undercooked steak! We didn't enjoy our meal! You ruined this experience for us!
M1: Our evening is ruined and we demand compensation.
M2: If you don't, the police will be involved, and I guarantee, you will be arrested.
I was stuck in this weird place. I was halfway between bursting with rage and bursting with laughter.
Me: Can I come over and check out the meal for myself?
M1: Be my guest!
I went over. The two women had their faces buried into their hands.
W1: I am so sorry...
W2: *to husband* I told you to leave it!
M2: No. We are getting our money back.
I inspected the meat.
Me: OK, that steak is medium rare...
M1: So?
Me: You asked for it medium. I agree, it is not how you asked for it, but these meals have already been refunded...
W1: And I don't want a refund, I enjoyed my meal!
M1: WE. ARE. GETTING. A. REFUND.
M2: I'm calling the police...
He got his phone out and held it up to my face.
M2: Last chance. This will all go away if you just give us a refund.
Me: What will the police do? A medium rare steak will NOT kill you.
W1: See! I told you so!
M1: Well, we'll get the opinions of other customers then shall we?
M1 grabbed his plate and started walking around the bar. I followed. He walked up to a poor unsuspecting table, and shoved the plate about two inches away from a poor womans face.
M1: WOULD YOU EAT THIS STEAK??
The poor woman was so shocked she screamed. Her husband stood up to go for the guy. I got their first. I grabbed the plate out of his hands. All the laughter inside me was now entirely replaced with rage.
Me: GET.....OUT....NOW.
I walked back to the table, grabbed their evidence and threw it all in the trash.
M1: We need that!
M2: Right, I'm calling the police!
At this point, the two wives had packed up all their belongings, mouthing "I'm so sorry" in my direction.
M1 got right up in my face.
M1: How old are you? 25 going on 3? ACT YOUR AGE.
W1 appeared out of no where and grabbed him by the hand.
W1: Come on. We're leaving.
W2 had also confiscated her husbands phone. The two women were leading the two men out of the bar, like they were naughty children being taken home early. The co-worker who was behind the bar saw all this and started clapping her hands, whistling and cheering.
CW: GOOD FOR YOU CUSTOMERSRUINMYLIFE! GOOD FOR YOU!
M1: AND THAT JUST SAYS IT ALL ABOUT THIS PLACE DOESN'T IT???
The customers that M1 had frightened started cheering as well.
I walked up to co-worker.
Me: You're in charge. I'm going for a break.
I was having a very bad night. Nothing seemed to be going right. I was still recovering from my bought of flu, and the bar was ten times busier than we expected (I have NO idea where all these people came from!!) The week between Christmas and New Year is usually our quietest week of the year, but for some reason, this year (or should I say, last year) was our busiest.
A group of four customers are sat down, two couples, both in their forties/fifties. The men call me over.
M1: Sucky Man 1
M2: Sucky Man 1's accomplice
W1: Sucky Man 1's Wife
W2: Sucky Man 1's accomplices wife.
M1: Excuse me, we are not happy with these steaks. They are undercooked.
Me: OK then, would you like me to throw them on the grill for a bit longer?
M2: NO! Just give us our money back!
Me: Are you sure? I could get you some free desserts...
M2: NO! Just the money will do!
I was too busy to argue. I got them a refund on the steaks. I went back over.
Me: There you go, sorry about that.
M1: Is it OK if we eat the rest of our meals and leave the steaks?
Me: Yeah sure.
W1: I'm sorry about this. I told him not to bother you...
M1: EXCUSE ME! I paid money for this! And I was not happy.
W1: Well, I just wanted you to know, I'm enjoying my meal.
W2: Me too!
Me: Thank you. I'm glad to hear it.
Those poor women.
I carried on. About twenty minutes later, a co-worker came up to me.
CW: Umm, there are two guys at the end of the bar who want to see the manager.
Oh joy! It was M1 and M2!
M1: We've been doing a lot of thinking, and we want all our money back.
M2: That's right! We want the money back for ALL the meals, and ALL the drinks we have had here tonight.
M1: Or we go to the police.
M2: That's right. Give us money, and all this will go away.
Me:
The police? What? I'm sorry, can we start from the beginning, you want ALL your money back?M1: That's right.
Me: For all the food you ate?
M2: Yup!
Me: And the drinks you drank?
M1: Yeah!
Me: Or you'll call the police?
M1: Is there an echo in here? Yes, we will call the police. The meat you served is undercooked. We're taking it home with us, we are posting half of it to the police as evidence, and the other half to the news.
Me: For a steak??
A co-worker who was serving on the bar overheard. Her jaw nearly hit the floor, she also started to giggle.
M2: And it's not just for the undercooked steak! We didn't enjoy our meal! You ruined this experience for us!
M1: Our evening is ruined and we demand compensation.
M2: If you don't, the police will be involved, and I guarantee, you will be arrested.
I was stuck in this weird place. I was halfway between bursting with rage and bursting with laughter.
Me: Can I come over and check out the meal for myself?
M1: Be my guest!
I went over. The two women had their faces buried into their hands.
W1: I am so sorry...
W2: *to husband* I told you to leave it!
M2: No. We are getting our money back.
I inspected the meat.
Me: OK, that steak is medium rare...
M1: So?
Me: You asked for it medium. I agree, it is not how you asked for it, but these meals have already been refunded...
W1: And I don't want a refund, I enjoyed my meal!
M1: WE. ARE. GETTING. A. REFUND.
M2: I'm calling the police...
He got his phone out and held it up to my face.
M2: Last chance. This will all go away if you just give us a refund.
Me: What will the police do? A medium rare steak will NOT kill you.
W1: See! I told you so!
M1: Well, we'll get the opinions of other customers then shall we?
M1 grabbed his plate and started walking around the bar. I followed. He walked up to a poor unsuspecting table, and shoved the plate about two inches away from a poor womans face.
M1: WOULD YOU EAT THIS STEAK??
The poor woman was so shocked she screamed. Her husband stood up to go for the guy. I got their first. I grabbed the plate out of his hands. All the laughter inside me was now entirely replaced with rage.
Me: GET.....OUT....NOW.
I walked back to the table, grabbed their evidence and threw it all in the trash.
M1: We need that!
M2: Right, I'm calling the police!
At this point, the two wives had packed up all their belongings, mouthing "I'm so sorry" in my direction.
M1 got right up in my face.
M1: How old are you? 25 going on 3? ACT YOUR AGE.
W1 appeared out of no where and grabbed him by the hand.
W1: Come on. We're leaving.
W2 had also confiscated her husbands phone. The two women were leading the two men out of the bar, like they were naughty children being taken home early. The co-worker who was behind the bar saw all this and started clapping her hands, whistling and cheering.
CW: GOOD FOR YOU CUSTOMERSRUINMYLIFE! GOOD FOR YOU!
M1: AND THAT JUST SAYS IT ALL ABOUT THIS PLACE DOESN'T IT???
The customers that M1 had frightened started cheering as well.
I walked up to co-worker.
Me: You're in charge. I'm going for a break.
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