Tweet
I attempted a post on this whiny woman last week. But you know those times where you are halfway through typing a post, and you suddenly feel exhausted through re-living the nightmare? Well I felt like that and decided not to complete it. However, it has been brought out of development hell thanks to a little bit of karma.
The SC from this story came into the pub a week ago. She arrived with her silent husband and whiny three children. She literally started complaining as soon as she got through the door.
SC: It’s even colder in here than it is outside! BRRRRRR!!
She dramatically folded her arms and pulled her head into her coat in an attempt to look cold. It was perfectly comfortable in the pub, but we decided we might have to nip it in the bud before she got any more dramatic and turned up the heat slightly.
She reached her table.
SC: Excuuuuuuuse me? Can someone wipe down my table??? There is a MARK on it!
I went over with a cloth. The mark in question was part of the pattern on the wood. She didn’t want to accept this, and dramatically moved to another table.
SC: I want bread!
Me: Of course. But the bread does not come free, you have to pay for it.
SC: Whaaaaat? How much??
Me: Each portion is .xxp and you get two slices.
SC: Fine, I will have two portions!
Me: If you would just make your way up to the bar and order-
SC: For bread?!?
Me: Fine, I will take your money here then.
I got her two portions of bread: i.e four slices.
SC: Can’t you count?!?
Me: I’m sorry?
SC: There are FIVE of us and you have brought us FOUR pieces of bread!
Me: You only said you wanted two portions. I did tell you how much was in a portion.
SC: You know what, forget it. Just FORGET IT.
I walked away. Boss came over.
Boss: Just give her the extra slice of bread. Just so we can get them to order quickly and get them out of here. I can’t be bothered for the moment when she demands to see the manager.
I made a co-worker drop the bread off, as I couldn’t bear the thought of her having a smug look on her face.
Her complaints continued as she tried to order
SC: Your menu is too complicated!
SC: You don’t offer enough choice!
SC: You are too expensive!
SC: Your wine selection is terrible!
SC: How much for a small glass?? That’s an outrageous price!
She was lucky because a very, very, VERY patient co-worker served her at the bar. If it had been me, I would have told her to get fucked after the first whiny comment.
She complained that there was no waiter to carry her drinks back to the table. She complained when we offered her a tray (apparently her carrying a tray was “degrading”). She complained about the temperature again. She complained about how long her meals were taking. She complained about the lighting. She complained about the decor. I. Am. Not. Kidding. It was very quiet in the pub, and I had to go and sit in the cellar to cool off because I seriously thought I was going to throw a plate full of food in her face.
Her food arrived. She complained about the presentation of the meals. She sent her plate back because it was dirty (no one could find this dirt she was talking about). She sent it back again because there was not enough tomato in her salad. She sent it back again because her steak was not cooked well enough. She never made a single complaint about her family’s food. Just her own. Boss was watching the whole thing, and kept saying “It’s OK, they’ll be gone soon, hold tight.” Through gritted teeth.
They finished their meals. She complained it took too long for their table to be cleared. She complained that CW didn’t attempt to sell them a dessert.
SC: I don’t want a dessert! But that’s not the point! It would have been nice to be asked!
CW didn’t ask her because she didn’t want to do anything that might keep this idiot in the building for much longer.
SC: It’s too warm in here!
Finally, it looked as though they were leaving. Suddenly, we saw her waving around her arms like a mad woman, swatting and slapping the air at something.
SC: There’s a fly in here!
Yep. There was a fly buzzing around the pub. We had no idea where the little guy came from. Must have come in through a door or window.
SC: That’s the final straw! This place is dirty and fly ridden! Goodness knows what their kitchen is like!
They headed for the doors. She stormed up to the bar.
SC: I will be calling Environmental Health and telling them to pay this dirty place a visit!
They left. We all sighed.
Flash forward to three days later.
A rather stern looking man is at the end of the bar with a clipboard and a nametag.
Environmental Health.
Yep. He was responding to a concerned customer who visited the pub a few days ago, and he wanted to do a check up. Everyone immediately started to panic. The pub is normally very, very clean, but what if something was missed? What if he found something no one noticed? It’s always really scary when they arrive (most of the time they do completely random checks). We watched as he combed over the entire pub, running his hands along banisters, checking for dust. He crawled under the beer pumps on the bar, and he made an entire sweep of the kitchen, pulling out everything as he went.
And what score did we get?
100%
We even got a framed certificate to put at the end of the bar. He said he couldn’t remember the last time he came across a pub that was so clean. He was very impressed.
We are hoping the SC returns, just so we can put the certificate down on her table and thank her.
The SC from this story came into the pub a week ago. She arrived with her silent husband and whiny three children. She literally started complaining as soon as she got through the door.
SC: It’s even colder in here than it is outside! BRRRRRR!!
She dramatically folded her arms and pulled her head into her coat in an attempt to look cold. It was perfectly comfortable in the pub, but we decided we might have to nip it in the bud before she got any more dramatic and turned up the heat slightly.
She reached her table.
SC: Excuuuuuuuse me? Can someone wipe down my table??? There is a MARK on it!
I went over with a cloth. The mark in question was part of the pattern on the wood. She didn’t want to accept this, and dramatically moved to another table.
SC: I want bread!
Me: Of course. But the bread does not come free, you have to pay for it.
SC: Whaaaaat? How much??
Me: Each portion is .xxp and you get two slices.
SC: Fine, I will have two portions!
Me: If you would just make your way up to the bar and order-
SC: For bread?!?
Me: Fine, I will take your money here then.
I got her two portions of bread: i.e four slices.
SC: Can’t you count?!?
Me: I’m sorry?
SC: There are FIVE of us and you have brought us FOUR pieces of bread!
Me: You only said you wanted two portions. I did tell you how much was in a portion.
SC: You know what, forget it. Just FORGET IT.
I walked away. Boss came over.
Boss: Just give her the extra slice of bread. Just so we can get them to order quickly and get them out of here. I can’t be bothered for the moment when she demands to see the manager.
I made a co-worker drop the bread off, as I couldn’t bear the thought of her having a smug look on her face.
Her complaints continued as she tried to order
SC: Your menu is too complicated!
SC: You don’t offer enough choice!
SC: You are too expensive!
SC: Your wine selection is terrible!
SC: How much for a small glass?? That’s an outrageous price!
She was lucky because a very, very, VERY patient co-worker served her at the bar. If it had been me, I would have told her to get fucked after the first whiny comment.
She complained that there was no waiter to carry her drinks back to the table. She complained when we offered her a tray (apparently her carrying a tray was “degrading”). She complained about the temperature again. She complained about how long her meals were taking. She complained about the lighting. She complained about the decor. I. Am. Not. Kidding. It was very quiet in the pub, and I had to go and sit in the cellar to cool off because I seriously thought I was going to throw a plate full of food in her face.
Her food arrived. She complained about the presentation of the meals. She sent her plate back because it was dirty (no one could find this dirt she was talking about). She sent it back again because there was not enough tomato in her salad. She sent it back again because her steak was not cooked well enough. She never made a single complaint about her family’s food. Just her own. Boss was watching the whole thing, and kept saying “It’s OK, they’ll be gone soon, hold tight.” Through gritted teeth.
They finished their meals. She complained it took too long for their table to be cleared. She complained that CW didn’t attempt to sell them a dessert.
SC: I don’t want a dessert! But that’s not the point! It would have been nice to be asked!
CW didn’t ask her because she didn’t want to do anything that might keep this idiot in the building for much longer.
SC: It’s too warm in here!
Finally, it looked as though they were leaving. Suddenly, we saw her waving around her arms like a mad woman, swatting and slapping the air at something.
SC: There’s a fly in here!
Yep. There was a fly buzzing around the pub. We had no idea where the little guy came from. Must have come in through a door or window.
SC: That’s the final straw! This place is dirty and fly ridden! Goodness knows what their kitchen is like!
They headed for the doors. She stormed up to the bar.
SC: I will be calling Environmental Health and telling them to pay this dirty place a visit!
They left. We all sighed.
Flash forward to three days later.
A rather stern looking man is at the end of the bar with a clipboard and a nametag.
Environmental Health.
Yep. He was responding to a concerned customer who visited the pub a few days ago, and he wanted to do a check up. Everyone immediately started to panic. The pub is normally very, very clean, but what if something was missed? What if he found something no one noticed? It’s always really scary when they arrive (most of the time they do completely random checks). We watched as he combed over the entire pub, running his hands along banisters, checking for dust. He crawled under the beer pumps on the bar, and he made an entire sweep of the kitchen, pulling out everything as he went.
And what score did we get?
100%
We even got a framed certificate to put at the end of the bar. He said he couldn’t remember the last time he came across a pub that was so clean. He was very impressed.
We are hoping the SC returns, just so we can put the certificate down on her table and thank her.
As much as I'm sorry you had to deal with that horrible SC, I hope she comes back to see your bright shiny certificate!
Comment