The Trials and Tribulations of Strict Asian Waitresses

The Slackmistress just blogged about her younger brother’s birthday and the challenge of a waitress who thinks she knows best. (Or just wants to cover her ass during a mistake.) Well, it reminds me of a story. It isn’t as crazy, but it does span a longer period of time…

One of my favourite cafes offers a decent selection of food, all for under $10. You can get a ham and cheese that challenges mustard haters, a pretty tasty plate of fried tofu, some french onion soup, pad thai… Basically a lot of normal cafe fare mixed with some Asian nibbles here and there.

The place is cute, with funky art on the walls, great tunes piped through the speakers, and beer and booze to make it the perfect night time spot as well.  But things don’t always go smoothly there.

Years ago, as I prepared to order my favourite ham and cheese, I noticed that they were serving fries with their hamburger special. I asked the waitress for my sandwich, plus a side of fries.

“No.”

That’s it. That’s all she replied with.

“No?”

“No. It doesn’t come with fries.”

I tried to explain to her that I knew this, and that I was asking for a side of them anyway.

“No. They cost extra.”

Again, I tried to explain that this was okay. All I wanted was a flipping side of fries. Money was no object! Finally, after some more tough negotiations, I got what I wanted.

A few years later, I was going out for a bite with a friend and as we neared the cafe, I told him this story. All this reminiscing had made me crave the sandwich and fries, so when the waitress came to take our order, I asked for the same meal I had gotten before. (Fries had become part of the menu.)

“No.”

It took everything in me, and in my friend, not to burst out laughing. This was the same woman from a few years before. Luckily, however, she was a bit more reasonable this time around. I explained that I wanted them as a side, and that I would pay extra. Crisis averted.

Perhaps this was the universe trying to rid me of my strong and undeniable love of fried potatoes. I prefer to think of it as a great story about the reliability of craziness.