Hashbrowns and Homefries

It was Christmas Eve night when I was waiting tables at my restaurant job, praying that it would be 5:00 as soon as possible, so I could go home and spend some QT with my family. Thats when a customer was sat at my section, ready to be a "ba humbug", complaining about his meal. He ordered one of our breakfast items, which included his choice of either Hashbrowns or Homefries. He grumbled that he wanted the hashbrowns, but not with our seasoning. Not aware that we put anything on our hashbrowns, I consulted our cook, and he said that they didnt put anything special on them--they came as they were prepared.

So minutes later, I gave him his breakfast. After running around to serve my other guests, scattered about the restaurant, he motioned me over. I stood there listening to him vent as he complained about his entree. The kicker for me though was the complaint about he hashbrowns. He said, "And I got hashbrowns, when I really wanted home fries. I know I said hashbrowns, but you should have picked up on what I meant, when I was talking about the seasoning."

Are servers supposed to read minds? Is that in our job description?

He not only got his meal for free, as our manager took care of him. But he also stiffed me because I couldn't read his mind! Of course that put me in a sour mood for Christmas Eve. I did lighten up (after a great meal at Oriental Wok with my family that night, followed by other Christmas traditions!), but I couldn't stop thinking about this predicament.

Last Thursday morning, when I was hosting. I greeted the same guy and his wife, sitting them down to their seats. I tried to make as little eye contact with him as possible. Later on when they got up to left, they talked with our manager (the same one who gave him his free meal). Then he did something that I don't think I'll ever forget. He turns to me, and hands me 2 dollars saying, "I stiffed you the other day. Here you go."

Does that mean there's hope for mankind? Are there a handful of people out there who want to do the right thing? His conscious must have been weighing heavy on him for two weeks to come back and do that. I wasn't even his server! I was just a host.

This story started out as a "bad server story", just one more reason to get out of the restaurant industry. It ended up being a story about miracles, hope, and inspiration.

Happy New Year Everyone!