I approached a table set for five when I noticed that a woman was sitting there, by herself.
"Good evening!" I said, and asked her if the rest of her party would be joining her soon.
"Well I'M sitting down, my husband and kids are dragging behind. But I'm tired and want to relax. I'll have a glass of your house cabernet, whichever one is fine, I'll just sit here and drink it by MYSELF while I wait for -- oh -- here they come."
I turned around to see the lady's husband, ushering three children toward the table.
"Where have you BEEN?" she asked.
He explained while raising one child into her chair, "I'm sorry, I was trying to deal with that man at the door. He had like, zero personality, oh my gosh did you hear him? His job is to greet people when they walk through the door and he was absolutely horrible."
I laughed to myself as I walked away, because the "man with zero personality" at the door was my boss. I let everyone get settled at the table, and brought the lady her glass of wine. Her husband was poring over the cocktail list when I returned.
"Oh my gawsh they have 'adult milkshakes,' would you look at that? Tell me about those."
I explained that our adult milkshakes were milkshakes with booze in them, and that most people get them for dessert but we could make one for him now if he liked.
"That sounds incredible," he raved. "I've never heard of such a thing. I think I'm going to try one of those."
"Don't order that," his wife barked.
"Why not?"
"Because you won't like it."
"But I want it, it sounds good. What makes you think I won't like it?"
"It's too heavy, it sounds rich, you're not going to drink it."
He turned to me, and said, "I'll have this PB&J milkshake."
"Yes, sir," I responded and proceeded to walk away.
"DON'T BRING HIM THAT. He's not gonna like it."
I stopped short and looked at the two of them. They were the freaking Bickersons. I hadn't gotten so far as telling them the specials and here I was in the middle of their bizarre disagreement. They went on and on about this milkshake.
"Bring it to me," he insisted. "I want to try it."
She looked me square in the eyes. "You can bring it to him, but he's not gonna like it. I'm telling you right now he's not gonna drink it but you can go ahead and bring it to him if you want. But he's not gonna like it." If she said it once, she said it one hundred times. Her voice was a combination of the following ladies, so you can understand how the repetitive nagging sounded to myself and the surrounding customers.
"I'm going to like it! I am!"
In the end, I brought it to him, because HE ORDERED IT, and our milkshakes are good and it was money on the check, and DAMN if I was going to be in any way involved in their little game any longer.
Guess what? He didn't like it. He didn't complain, but he didn't even drink half of it. It pained me to see that she was right.
I'm married, so I understand that sometimes your spouse knows you better than you know yourself. However, when dining out, can we all agree to let everyone order for themselves? It's not uncommon for a person to order something only to have their table mate exclaim, "You're getting THAT?" Then I have to stand there and wait while someone defends their personal preference of the evening. It's no fun for anyone.
I just want people to order for themselves. If someone tells me they want one thing and then someone else acts surprised and insists they shouldn't get it, then guess what? I'm not gonna like it.
