police

Ruckus in the Restaurant

November 18, 2011

in Kitchen & Chef Stories

I went to a local chain Italian restaurant a few years ago with my sister. This was a restaurant that we frequented about once a month up until this incident. Over the years we had become “friends” with the manager in that he would come over to chat when we were there. What happened was as we were sitting and eating our lunch, the manager came over to talk to us for a bit. Then he was pulled away to the kitchen. We turned back to our lunches and were happily chatting when all of a sudden there was a great ruckus from the kitchen area. Loud voices and what sounded like a fist fight broke out. We were all bug-eyed as we silently listened to the ruckus. We clearly heard a very loud male voice yelling “F@!# you, man! F@!# you.”

A large, muscular man stormed out of the kitchen, still yelling obscenities. He was followed by the manager, who we noticed now had a telltale bruise forming on his left cheek that wasn’t there previously. It was very scary to see this big guy all upset and yelling, especially when we could see  from the bruise forming on the manager’s face that he had no problem getting physical. The manager was calmly telling the large man that he did not belong there, he had to leave, he had been fired last week and was no longer allowed on the premises, and the police had been called.

So they took the fight outside, and we proceeded to continue our lunch. A few minutes later my sister pointed out that the police were indeed here. I turned so I could see out the window and there were two police cars parked out front. We both gave each other that “oh no” look and continued our lunch. When we were just about finished and had already asked for the bill, the manager came up to us. He asked if we had heard anything that happened in the back, and we said we did. He then asked if we would be willing to give the police a statement about the incident. After a little hem-hawing on my part (I could just see this big guy turning up at my house and I’m single unlike my sister, so no husband to protect me), we agreed to each fill out a statement. The good news is we were never called upon after that to testify or anything, so thankfully the written statements were apparently enough for whatever legal pursuits the restaurant sought.

We have been back to the restaurant since then, just not as frequently. The food is still good and the manager is still there, but we have never asked what came of the police report. Having an incident such as this happen makes you a little weary of frequenting a place.

- Sagann

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Tagged as: owner/manager, police, violence

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Mr. Cussing Creeper

September 2, 2011

in Diner Stories

About 2 years ago, my family and I went out for dinner at a nice chain restaurant on a Wednesday evening. After being led to our booth, given our menus and had our drink orders taken, I glanced around the area we were seated in. It seemed that we were in a sort of “family with young children” section. Our children were 10 and 13 and had been taught how to behave in restaurants, but no biggie. The restaurant seemed to be having a slow period; there was a low hum of conversation, a few other families with younger children, but no unruly children running around. That lasted for about 10 minutes.

Within 5 minutes of ordering our appetizer, the restaurant had a “rush.” It was not a holiday or school break, but all the tables in our section were filled with other families. The noise level increased but it still was not too bad. There was one young boy that decided to run around tables and in the aisle, but his mother was able to squash that behavior fairly quickly. Then the “hell” part of dinner began.

Hellish part # 1: A couple with an infant was seated behind me. They had just given their drink order when the infant started to make noises. The noises progressed to full-on, top of its lungs, ear-splitting screaming. Nothing the parents could do would stop the screaming. The mother even took the infant outside and walked it around to no avail. This baby was unhappy and was making sure everyone knew it. At this point, I would have paid for my drinks and left (as they had been unable to order due to the infant’s screaming). But NO! This couple wanted to sit down and have a meal in, even if the entire restaurant had to hear their child scream. They had to shout their order to the server.

After this screaming had been going on for about 25 minutes, the manager came out (I’m sure due to customer AND employee complaints), told them it was obvious that the infant was distressed and offered to comp their meal and have it boxed for them to take home, but they adamantly refused. By George, they were going to sit in the restaurant and eat, no matter what! They “talked” to each other by shouting OVER the infant’s screaming. The rest of the parents in this section are all looking at each other thinking “What is wrong with these people?” It was obvious to everyone but them that there was something seriously wrong with that child. Why couldn’t they just take their child home or to the ER and have a nice, sit-down dinner another time? It was very weird the way they insisted on staying there to eat, ignoring the fact that the kid was turning purple from screaming.

The people on the other side of our booth had been very vocal, with the husband using profanity-laced statements to make their displeasure of the situation known. Yes, it was annoying and aggravating and a few people even slapped down their money on the table without waiting for the bill to come and walked out, but the profanity was as annoying and aggravating to me as was the screaming. I even went over to their booth and asked the man to please stop using profanity. I said yes, it was very aggravating that the child is screaming and disrupting everyone’s meals, but your cussing about it is not making it any better. You have a young child sitting here beside you, I have two children at the next booth over, this entire area is filled children, and the language you are using is not the type of language ANYONE needs to be hearing. He glared at me with his beady little eyes, did a full head-to-toe type of leer, and then turned his attention to something outside the window. Can anyone say C-R-E-E-P-Y?

The poor baby’s screams became hoarse, then softer and softer until it eventually stopped. I guess the tyke either tired itself out or completely lost its voice. As soon as the screaming stopped, Hellish part #2 started.

Hellish part #2: The couple on the other side of our booth, the ones using profanity, started to grumble again. They were making statements such as “I’m glad that f**king baby shut the hell up.” “Can’t even enjoy a d*mn meal without listening to some f**king baby squall.” “D*mn parents ought to pay for everybody’s f**ing meal for making us listen to that d*mn brat they brought in here. Dumba**es.” There were several more comments along that line. He kept shooting his creepy little stares at me over the booth wall. With supreme effort I managed not to get back up and rip his larynx out.

Eventually he quit cussing and turned his attention to the young girl, presumably his daughter, that was in the booth with him and his wife. He started rubbing her shoulders, smiling real big and said, and I quote, “I get to give you your bath tonight! I’m going to run you a big tub full of bubbles and sprinkle in some of Mommy’s special bath beads. I’m going to wash your hair with that coconut shampoo. Then I’ll comb and blow-dry it for you.”

I had to pick my jaw up off the table. I will never forget those words for as long as I live. His voice has that creepy tone that makes you shiver. I felt like he was basically describing how he was going to clean her up before he did something disgusting to her. I looked at my husband and he also had a look of disgust on his face. That was it for me. I waved our server over, asked for and paid the bill. As we were leaving, I made sure to pause by that booth long enough to say “Can’t even enjoy a d*mn meal without listening to some f**king child molester describe how he is going to abuse his child.” I know, immature, retaliatory and impolite, but I just wanted him to know that I knew what he was planning to do.

I went outside and called the police to report a suspected case of child abuse. They sent some officers over; I told them what I heard and they said they could not do anything because he didn’t actually verbalize any intent to commit a crime against the child and I hadn’t witnessed him commit a crime. Oh, and that being creepy wasn’t a crime. I said “Well, if you had been in there, heard the way he said it and the way the child tried to shrink away when he started rubbing her shoulders, you would know he intended to commit a crime against her.” They said they would “have a talk” with him and send a report of suspected child abuse to Child Protective Services, but that’s all the law allowed them to do.

It was the loudest, creepiest dinner I have ever had. I have avoided returning to that restaurant because I’m not sure I could control myself if I ran into Mr. Cussing Creeper again.

- Michelle

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Tagged as: babies & children, owner/manager, pervert, police

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Gun-Toting Thugs Rob Restaurant

June 11, 2010

in Odds & Ends Stories

I was the opening manager for a restaurant in downtown Washington D.C. many years ago. The restaurant was one of a chain that was very popular in the Washington area at the time. We opened at 7:00 AM for breakfast, which meant I had to get there at about 5:15 AM to open the store so we could prepare for the breakfast rush.

When I arrived at the store on this chilly March morning, several employees were already waiting to be let in. As was my custom I would lock the door behind me, being sure to lock both the middle and bottom locks on the big plate glass door. I would sit in the dining room for about 15 minutes while waiting for the remaining employees to arrive.

On this day as the last two workers came up to the door, I unlocked the middle lock and stooped down and unlocked the bottom lock. All of a sudden the door was pushed open, the two employees were literally thrown into the room and I was knocked off balance while still stooped over the bottom lock. Three young men with stocking caps on, brandishing a gun, ordered me to lock the door. I did so, and they directed us to the back of the store, down to the basement where the office was located. They rounded up the other employees already in the store and herded us all into the small office. The tallest intruder yelled at me to “open the damn safe.” The safe was located next to the wooden desk, and beside a metal file cabinet. On the side of the desk was a “panic” switch which would summon police. The thieves knew it was there, and told me not to push it, just “open the damn safe.” Well, with a gun pointed at my head, I could not remember the combination, and my hands were shaking so bad I could barely turn the dial.

After what seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes, the door bell to the store began to ring as other employees showed up for work. The thieves were getting nervous, and the gun was looking bigger and bigger to me. I finally got the safe open, but there was less than $150 opening cash in it; the previous day’s money had been deposited the night before. What the crooks didn’t know was there was a silent panic button inside the safe, which I somehow remembered to flick. They quickly scooped up the money, and put us all in the walk-in ice box and locked it from the outside. They made their escape through the basement rear door. Within minutes, which again seemed a lot longer, Washington’s Finest opened the walk-in and let us all out. The thieves had been caught at the end of the alley behind the restaurant.

We were all shaky and cold, but not as cold as the half dozen or more employees at the front door who were waiting in the cold and had no idea what was going on.

- Jack

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Tagged as: owner/manager, police, violence

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We’re Not Moving

May 16, 2010

in Diner Stories

Our restaurant presents live musical performances on Fridays and Saturdays; usually upbeat jazz and R&B. These shows are very, very popular, and we encourage people (via our website and press releases) to call the restaurant to reserve a seat.

I was in the middle of seating a whole lot of people on a Friday night; the place was packed; four of my most favorite customers (who’d called the week before to reserve) were with me, heading toward one of the prime tables in the restaurant. The five of us were nearly knocked over by a rather rotund woman and her husband who went running past us – and sat down at the table we were headed to (it was marked with a card saying “reserved”).

I asked my customers to bear with us a moment and went to tell the couple that they couldn’t sit there; it’d been reserved and that I’d be happy to get them another table if they’d wait for a moment. The lady looked at me and said “we’re not moving.” I replied that she was a party of two occupying a reserved table set for four. Again, all she said was “we’re not moving.” Not wanting to cause a scene; I seated my table of four at a booth (one they really didn’t want – but they were understanding) and then went to my service staff and told the server in that section that I did not want her to waste her time on the offending couple; that I just wanted them to wait and maybe they’d just go away.

Over the next 45 minutes, the woman continued to sit there, oblivious to the fact that she was being intentionally ignored, but for the fact that every time I passed the table, she’d utter some sort of obscenity, very loudly, in my direction. “F*ck! Sh*t. Dick-head. Assh*le.” It started to wear on the diners seated in the vicinity. I finally went to the table and said “I guess you didn’t get the hint; you and your date need to leave right now.” To which she again said, “we’re not moving.”

I called the police. We have a liquor license and are therefore entitled to eject any customer, for any reason, without repercussion. It seemed to me if an individual was being this belligerent she must’ve had something to drink, or worse, a pill or something like that. But I must tell you I can’t stand having to call the police – I’d much rather reserve that for when we really need them. Most of the time, I can get even the most unreasonable customer to a middle ground where we can at least respect each other. In this case it just wasn’t going to happen.

When the officers arrived, they heard what was going on and rolled their eyes – in disbelief that all I called them for was a customer who wouldn’t change her table. I was telling them the details of this woman’s behavior as we approached the table (two of the four tables surrounding this woman applauded me and the cops when we arrived – they stood and applauded) and when she turned around and saw us all, she lunged up at me with her water glass, aiming it right at my face. The cops tackled her but not before I got a glass full of water all over my suit and a nasty knot in my head where the glass hit me (thank God it didn’t break).

Meanwhile, astonishingly, her date (or her husband) stood by, wordlessly. When prompted by the police for a comment, he just said “oh, she’s pretty demanding. She’s like this all the time.” We were rendered momentarily speechless. He seemed genuinely surprised when they put the handcuffs on the lady. She, meanwhile, was vomiting obscenities and told the police and me that our mothers were “whores” and worse.

Now, I could’ve filed assault charges that’d have resulted in up to five years’ jail time in our state. I declined. I did, however, tell the Court that I wanted this woman to get some sort of counseling – the judge concurred.

Now, when that party of four – the ones who the table was intended for – comes in for one of their frequent visits to our restaurant, we have a little schtick. They sit down immediately at their favorite table, and when I come to get their drink orders, they all chime in at once “we’re not moving!”

- Xiao Gou

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Tagged as: long wait, owner/manager, police, portly, violence

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Busser Grabs Diner’s Privates

April 24, 2010 Server Stories

Many years ago I worked as an assistant manager for a well known chain of restaurants located in the Washington, DC area. The chain was owned by Mormons who were very generous in helping handicapped and mentally challenged individuals by providing them jobs in the kitchen, and as bus boys and girls. The particular Shoppe [...]

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Lack Of Restaurant Security

February 5, 2010 Odds & Ends Stories

I was robbed during BROAD DAYLIGHT at CB while parked along the sidewalk on the side of the building. When I asked the clerk to call police, their first response was “the same thing happened last week.” They don’t have security cameras in place to help catch criminals. They sent a letter saying they “aren’t responsible [...]

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Diner Stewed Over Steak

March 18, 2009 Diner Stories

I was managing a very busy steakhouse one Saturday evening, and a server informed me of an overcooked steak that had been sent back to the kitchen at one of his tables. Although regrettable, it does happen and I approached the table to make apologies and let them know their steak would be out very [...]

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A Hairy Situation

August 20, 2008 Dining Hell Blog

See the news clip below about a cook who allegedly contaminated a customer’s steak with hair because the diner complained that it wasn’t done right. A coworker said that it was a specific type of hair! Although he originally denied the charges, the cook recently was sentenced to jail.

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15% Or Else!

May 20, 2008 Dining Hell Blog

A restaurant customer received a threat that his house would be blown up if he ever returned to the restaurant and left less than a 15% tip. Click on the link below to see the news video:   Diner Receives Bomb Threat Over Tip

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Dining With A Dope

January 17, 2008 Diner Stories

Back in the 70s my college roommate (whom I’ll call “Clark”) and I decided to eat at a nationally-known seafood restaurant. I had only known him for a few days, but he seemed like a decent enough fellow. After perusing our menus, the waitress came over to take our order. After giving her my order, [...]

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