A woman walked into the shop at 8.15pm.
Woman:"I want 2 chicken sandwiches and 1 chicken salad."
After placing her order, she started grilling our nice part-timer with all sorts of questions, including:
"Are the chicken fried or baked? I don't want my chicken fried."
("They are baked, ma'am.")
"What bread do you use?"
(English white bread, ma'am.")
"No wholemeal bread?"
("Sorry ma'am, no.")
"OK never mind. Are they toasted?"
("Yes ma'am.")
etc...
After hogging the nicer part-timer for 5 minutes...
Woman: "Is my order ready?"
Me: "We are preparing your order now, ma'am."
Woman: "Can you hurry up? My movie started at 8.15pm."
(Then stop bloody hogging the part-timer and let him help us with your order!)
She waited another 1 minute and she stepped into the kitchen while I was preparing her sandwiches!
Me: "Ma'am, please, this is our kitchen!"
Woman: "Ya, ya, ya..."
She looked at the chicken.
Woman: "Why is your chicken so dark? Is it fried? I said I don't want my chicken fried!"
Me: "No ma'am, the chicken is not fried. It's marinated with soy sauce then oven-baked!"
After the woman left (she almost just left us with all her orders done but I catch her just in time before she walked out of the door), I told the chef about her questioning how the chicken was cooked.
The chef, in his unusually bitchy mode, said:
"You should've asked her is she's fried, since she's so dark."
No comments:
Post a Comment