Flirts to clickers, a waitress names her eight types of nightmare diner
'Rude customers range from people with a simple inability to say please and thank you, to those who seem to think being awful to others is a kind of sport.'
Of course, for every 10 great customers, you’re bound to get one that’s not so great — I’ve come across my fair share of those.
Here are the eight types I fear the most...
I once asked a couple whether they had any allergies. They looked me up and down, smirked at one another, and then one of them declared: “We’re allergic to poor people.”
Another low point was serving a group of women sitting outside with their dogs. One of the dogs decided to have a poo beside their table. The owner summoned me over and demanded I clean it up.
What’s worse is that they’ve evolved over time: become smarter, more prepared, and much more resourceful. I recently watched a customer pull out an extension lead from his rucksack, allowing him to charge his laptop, phone, Apple watch and headphones — I really thought his electric toothbrush would appear at one point.
Their presence detracts heavily from both the restaurant’s atmosphere and the very little service charge I receive at the end of the month.
On a warm, sunny day, the battle for these tables is brutal. I’ve had to break up physical scraps between customers who use everything from handbags, prams, or even the chairs to guarantee themselves an al fresco Caesar salad and iced americano.
Then there are those who complain about me or my colleagues to one another while I’m standing beside them. It might surprise you how many people feel perfectly comfortable saying things like “I’ve heard the service here is appalling” or “I don’t think she wrote down my order — she’ll definitely get it wrong” as I’m standing at their table awkwardly waiting for them to make up their minds.
The final type of Complainer is the one who wants me to tell off other people’s children, especially when in close earshot of the parents. If you don’t want to hear or see children, I suggest going somewhere they are banned.
They bring their own food, play music out loud, and sit at tables that don’t fit their party number. One colleague, after asking a customer not to smoke on the non-smoking terrace, caught him having a cigarette in the restaurant loo instead.
One time, I managed to spot two women running off without paying. I sprinted down the street until I reached them and demanded they come back and settle the bill. Oddly, their response was: “We can’t pay, we have a meeting to get to.”

