Dateline: IHOP, West Ft. Worth.
The following conversation is taking place behind me.
Irritable Woman to Waitress: “I want an answer and I want it now!”
Waitress: “Sure. How can I help you?”
IW: “I want to know why that guy who came in after we did already has his food and we don’t?”
That guy pretends he doesn’t exist.
W: “I can say for sure, some orders are quicker to expedite than others.”
IW: “That makes absolutely no sense! We ordered one of your specials ant that guy ordered some kind of lunch with rolls.”
W: “I wish I had an answer, ma’am, but–”
IW: “You have an answer, but you won’t tell me. (Oh, those waitresses and their secrets!) I want to see the manager!”
W: Sure, I’ll get him for you.” 
Manger: “How can I help you ma’am?”
IW: “See that man over there with the dinner salad? Well, he came in after we did and he already has his food and I do not. Why? How can this sort of thing happen?”
M: “Orders come in and when we’re busy–”
IW: “This is unacceptable! When I got up this morning, we could have gone to Chili’s or Denny’s but I wanted to come here, because I hadn’t had breakfast yet. But I want you to know I chose to come here and now this is how I’m treated!”
M: “I’ll see that we make this up to you.”
IW: “I want an answer!”
M: “I–”
IW: “People have choices, you know. I don’t have to come here again. (Oh, that threat scared the manager.) Why can’t you tell me what happened?”
And so it went. I need to get back to work, but IW has now started bringing every new customer in on her problem. I’m glad I’m not her husband because I can see the re-telling of this unforgivable treatment. And the re-telling.
MysteryShrink Pledge. I am just as much as mess as everyone else, though I have good moments and bad moments like everyone else.
