Ahi Tuna Nightmare

A good-looking couple in their 50’s sat in my section.  Everything started off smooth.  They chose a decent bottle of wine and there was general pleasant chitchat.    We began to discuss the menu and the wife asked if I preferred the Ahi tuna or the salmon. 

The damn preference question.

As severs, we get the “What do you prefer?” question all the time.   This is always a difficult question to answer (unless of course one dish really does suck and the other one is freaking fantastic).  Even still, everyone has different tastes.  And if we say one is better than the other and the guest ends up disliking or hating our selection, we feel like it’s our fault.  People love and hate the same dish all the time.  The best we can do is respond to this loathed question with overall guests’ opinions.

Using this logic, when her husband decided to order the Ahi, I suggested to the wife to order the salmon.  Unless I have 100% confidence that the guests will love the same dish, I will usually suggest the guests to choose two different items.   Lord help me if I suggest a dish which they both order and both end up hating it.

When I came back to get their order they both decided on the Ahi. Good.  She didn’t go with my suggestion.  I’m off the hook.  Hey, people want what they want.  He wanted his prepared sliced rare, sushi style.  She wanted hers seared rare, filet style.  I put the order into the computer.  As I walked by their table, the wife flagged me down.  I walked over, “Yes?”  She said, “You know what.  I changed my mind.  I want the salmon instead.”  Ugh.  Of course.  I politely responded, “Absolutely.  Let me go run back to the kitchen and let the chef know.” 

So now she chose what I originally suggested. 

I hustled back to the kitchen to tell them to change the seared rare Ahi to the salmon entrée.  Okay.  Not that big of a deal. 

Twenty minutes passed and the food was delivered.  I went over to check on them.  “How is everything?”  The lady gives me an odd look.  Uh oh.  She poked around her salmon for a bit and said, “You know. I hate to say this but it’s really greasy.  Way too much oil and butter.  It’s like I can feel the grease going directly to my forehead as I’m eating it.” 

Really lady.  Grease is going to your forehead...?   I’m not joking.  Those were her exact words. 

“I’m so sorry you feel that way,” I said apologetically. 

Case in point.  I told her to get the salmon and now it’s “greasy” and she doesn’t like it.   Salmon is an oily fish. Duh.  Who doesn’t love a buttery salmon?  Apparently this lady.  But whatever.  So now I feel like she hates the dish I recommended and therefore also hates me.   

Instead of the salmon, she decided she wants the Ahi after all.  Like she originally ordered.  Grrrrr.  She told me, “I just want exactly what he’s having,” as she pointed at her husband’s Ahi, which he’d ordered rare and sliced.

I ordered the Ahi in the computer and ran back to the kitchen again to tell them to rush it.  Within five minutes, the food runner brought out the Ahi.  Thankfully the kitchen rushed it and the Ahi came out quickly.  It was rare, after all.  That helps.  I ran over to check on her. 

“Everything great?” I asked.   She replied, “Well I thought I ordered this seared rare.” 

Oh my god.  I can’t win with this woman!   

Okay, in her defense, when she first ordered it, yes she ordered it seared.  But when she ordered it the second time, she stated she wanted “exactly that.”  So that’s how I ordered it.

I felt defeated.  I had to explain myself.  “You said you wanted ‘exactly’ what he was eating.  I thought that’s what you meant: sliced rare like he ordered it.”  She looked annoyed.  I was definitely annoyed.  In a flash of genius, I thought of a brilliant follow up. “Also, now knowing you don’t like oil I thought you wouldn’t like it seared because the chef uses oil when he sears the fish.”

Boo-ya! 

The husband agreed.  “She’s fine. This is fine.”  She gave in, “ Yes this will work.” 

Thank god. 

After everything I went through – changing the order, re-ordering, rushing the re-order and rushing to the kitchen multiple times – and as apologetic and as genuine as I was - and I didn’t even charge them for her entrée because their dining experience was a nightmare (of course all because of her - but again whatever) -  they only tipped me a mere ten percent on the discounted check. 

High maintenance and low tippers.  The worst.  Yuck. 

If you’re going to be high maintenance, at least be nice about it ... and tip well.   And if you do have a dish preference question, please don’t hold it against the server if you don't’ like it. 

___ 

PS:  I don't let this kind of trivial stuff bother me.  Yes, it's annoying.  But after people like this leave the restaurant, I let the annoyance of the situation leave my brain as well.  And if you can't let it go, you shouldn't be waiting tables.  ~HK~