Any one who has worked in customer service has their stories of irate, borderline insane customers throwing fits, breaking things, spitting, yelling, pushing, and spewing any combination of curse words found in the English or Spanish language. My family is not that type of customer. However on Saturday night we were treated like we were.
I am extremely non-confrontational. I don’t like conflict in any form. I avoid UK vs. UL arguments, I have been known to tear up if someone snaps at me and you couldn’t pay me enough to watch a Presidential debate or the political shows where people interrupt each other, smirk and roll eyes while the other talks or get louder hoping that will make their opinion more right. However, if someone or something I feel strongly about is under attack, I have been known to hold my ground. That doesn’t mean I don’t still cry about it later.
I felt the need to document what happened Saturday night at Bluegrass Pizza and Pub in Danville, Ky. This could be a cautionary for future restaurateurs, a demo on completely failing at patience, or just an “Oh my gosh, he said what?” moment for the day.
My Mom, Dad, Sister, Nephew (20 months) and I went to have dinner in Danville, KY before heading back to their home for some family time this past Saturday the 12th. We waited only about 15 minutes for our table and were seated in the cute local restaurant near the front window. We commented on the décor, admired the menu and noticed a diverse clientele enjoying their evening. My mom was very excited when Danville went Wet recently, opening them up to many new business and culinary experiences they previously had to drive to Lexington to enjoy.
When our waiter arrived we could tell that he was new and also nervous. (Now I know why because I would be nervous, too if I was working for someone whose switch could be flipped so easily; but more on that later.) As we ordered my Dad asked what kind of dressings were available for his salad and the young man replied “Pretty much anything .) Dad asked for Honey Mustard? and the server said he would bring it out. We also ordered our pizzas. Sister – Pepperoni. Mom and Dad – Veggie Delight with olives only on one half. Me – Veggie delight with no cheese. We made our usual joke about how I am so weird and don’t want the cheese. Haha, cue everyone’s laughs to make it ok if the waiter gives me a weird look as they usually do. You see, as a family, we like for people and interactions to be comfortable and fun. The waiter appeared to be writing everything down and we went on with our meal. Dad was told they didn’t have Honey Mustard but they brought him Spicy Mustard instead (not dressing) and then later they found Honey Mustard. Interesting. The usual 15-20 minutes later our food arrived. We had one pepperoni, and two Mediterraneans. We advised the waiter that we had not ordered those two Mediterraneans. I reminded him that Mom and Dad had the Veggie Delight with olives on half and I had the Veggie Delight with no cheese. As he walked away, wide eyed and slightly bewildered looking, I commented to my Mom that these next pizzas would likely still be wrong, in which case they could eat theirs and I would eat left over pasta or something when I got home.
Apparently the owners/managers of Bluegrass Pizza and Pub are a couple, and the Female Manager of the two came by, apologized, explained the newness of the waiter and offered to bring something for my nephew to color. She was VERY nice and her behavior was exactly what you would expect in this situation. Guess what? WE were nice, too! We don’t like to complain and we told her it wasn’t a big deal, everyone was all smiles, on with the meal. At this point Nephew was getting fussy so Dad took him out to walk around downtown Danville. At 20 months, that is very exciting. If only the little boy had known the excitement to come at our very table!
15-20 minutes later, out come the pizzas. Both Veggie Delights with full olive coverage and full cheese application. We advised our waiter that these were again, wrong, and we would like some boxes please. Just then the Male Owner arrived with a box for the half eaten Pepperoni pizza and said “oh, I didn’t realize you still had food coming.” At this point my mom was a little upset because all she wanted was to take her kids and grandkids out to eat and here her daughter was going to have to settle for cold pasta salad at home. She told him “Yes, we had to wait because we had the wrong pizza and they came out wrong again. We really shouldn’t have to pay for this pizza right here because she can’t even eat it.”
And here, my friends, is where you would expect the following: “I am so sorry that happened, let me go back and talk to the kitchen and see what happened, I will be right back;” or something like that, right? That is what I would have expected. Instead…. “Ok well, you don’t give me orders, I am going to go take care of it.”
YES! That is what he said, to my mom, who is so sweet and she just sat there amazed. We were all three amazed. We sat for a good two minutes in silence contemplating what had just happened. I mean, come on, Man! Have you ever eaten at a restaurant before? That doesn’t happen!
Finally as my ears turned red and I sat and watched my Mom with her hurt feelings and big eyes, I got up, marched myself back to the bar area where the two owners and the waiter were standing in a huddle. I walked straight up to that Male Owner and I explained that we were not upset with the waiters, mistakes happen, I have been there myself (I mean I don’t think I ever got it wrong twice but, you know…) and we were prepared to just call it a night. However, I told him, it was extremely rude for him to say that to my Mom.
He said that he didn’t care, we can’t give him orders, this is his restaurant. I asked if this is what he wanted us to tell Danville about the restaurant. Female Owner was standing there going “no, mam, no…” but he didn’t concur. He said we can just go ahead and get out if we don’t like it. "Just get out” he told me.
This is the point where I could have just gone all ballistic (others who are stronger than me have said that they would have asked him if he wanted to step outside with us as we “got out.”) I could have made a scene in front of all the customers and really brought out this egotistic land mine’s personality. Instead, my experience teaches me that you can’t reason with someone like that, so I turned around and collected my belongings. Apparently they eventually brought the check with two pizzas taken off but at that point I was outside playing with my Nephew; he calmed me down in 10 seconds as he laughed and ran towards me (I love it when they do that.)
Now, I want you to put on your imagination caps. Imagine if we had been the type of customer who really likes to complain. You know the kind who sits there waiting to find the smallest hint of a finger print on a knife, snaps at the server who can’t recommend the best wine and can sense heat lamps on food before it is even swallowed. Picture...Anton Ego in Ratatouille. Those types of people will inevitably come to this restaurant, probably one per night! How does this man deal with that without someone being thrown across a table every week? It is a small restaurant in a small town, we don’t mind mistakes. Heck we don’t even mind fingerprints. What we do mind is self-righteous ass hole owners.
Perhaps we caught him on a bad day. Maybe his pet mouse just died and the rent was due and the addition of the rain just threw him over the edge. Regardless, I NEVER can forgive someone for ruining time with my family. Sure it gave me a good story to tell but somehow the thought of him telling some undercover food critic that they “can’t give orders” to him isn’t giving me enough satisfaction.
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