FML for Chefs (F*ck My Life)

So I have the typical local table… couple in their late 40’s, early 50’s…Husband and wife.. waiter brings back the plates from entrees and says “the lady says her chicken is burnt…has a weird taste…yeah, she said it’s burnt”  Now, of course, the plate has exactly 4 pieces of noodles and a little sauce.  Oh, and waiter says…”She said to try it, she wants you to eat and and see…I did, yeah, it’s a little burnt ..or something?”.

Now…let’s examine a few things…

• She ate the whole fucking thing.
• She can’t EXACTLY tell me what’s wrong
• She expects that I would eat after some strange person..
• My waiter (who is a straight rat when it comes to free stuff apparently never heard that you DON’T eat after people, especially strangers.

So I tell him to comp her a cappuccino or something, since she left me about 13 cents worth of pasta left.  He goes out, offers, she comes back with “I want the chicken off the check”

I take it off, cursing the hell she must have come from, and offer as the Chef to take the check out to her (somewhere inside me, just wanting to get a little testy with her). Long story short, husband LOVED his dinner and she tells me 6 f*ing times that ” I don’t know, it just tasted burnt, or something? Pasta wasn’t right? When I make it, pound out the chicken, dip it in some flour …did YOU dip it in flour?…then fry it a little… I don’t know, ..I mean I AM a Gourmet Chef you know?”… At that point, I hoped that F16 bombers would just take out my building to avoid me choking her.  I looked at her husband who thankfully had some class to continue to compliement everything else they had had.

Oh, FML…another night in the restaurant.