I was just trying to have a nice evening out, you know? My friend had told me about this really fancy restaurant downtown, the kind with little plates of food and waiters who wear gloves. I felt a bit out of place, to be honest, but I figured it was good to try new stuff. I was sitting there, looking at the menu, trying to figure out what half the words even meant when this person just appeared at my table. They were wearing a shiny suit, kinda dark-colored, and they looked all huffy.
Before I could even really look up properly, they just started talking, real fast and loud. They said something about a reservation and how long they’d been waiting and that they needed a specific table, one near the big window. I guess they thought I was, like, a host or something. I just blinked at them for a second, my brain trying to catch up. I just had on my regular clothes, a nice shirt and slacks, nothing like what the actual staff wore. I looked down at my menu, then back at them.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, trying to be polite. “I don’t actually work here.”
The person just stared, like they hadn’t heard me. Their face got a little pinched. “Don’t work here? What do you mean you don’t work here? You’re standing right by the host stand. I’ve been waiting for ages for someone to help me. I need to know what’s taking so long for the corner table. My party is arriving, and I want everything ready.” They pointed a finger towards the back, all impatient-like. My muscles started to feel tight.
“No, really,” I said again, trying to sound calm, even though I was starting to get a little annoyed. “I’m just a customer, same as you. I’m waiting for my meal.” I kinda gestured around at the fancy chairs and the white tablecloths, like that should make it clear. But they just kept going, like I hadn’t said a thing.
“Look, I don’t have time for this,” they snapped, stepping closer. Their voice was getting louder, and I felt a headache start to form right behind my eyes. “I just need you to go check on the reservation. It’s under ‘Smith-Jones,’ party of six. And make sure the champagne is chilled and waiting at the table. It’s a very important client dinner.”
I took a deep breath. This was getting ridiculous. “Ma’am, or sir,” I said, because I wasn’t really sure which they were. “I truly do not work at this establishment. You need to talk to an actual employee. See? Over there.” I pointed towards an actual waiter who was walking by, carrying a tray of drinks. I figured that was the smart thing to do, just point them to someone who could actually help.
Well, that did not go over well at all. The person’s whole body went stiff. “Don’t you dare try to pawn me off on someone else! I’m speaking to you! This is unacceptable! You’re trying to avoid your job. I’m a paying customer, and I expect service! Now go and find out about my table!” They practically yelled the last part, and a few other diners started looking our way. I felt my face get hot. My hands balled up into fists, though I tried to relax them.
“I’m not avoiding my job because it’s not my job!” I practically hissed back, my patience wearing really thin. “I told you, I don’t work here! This is crazy!”
The person went completely red in the face. They stomped their foot a little. “Oh, I see! You think you’re too good to help a customer, do you? I’ll have you know I spend a lot of money in places like this! I’m going to speak to your manager right now! You’ll be fired for this attitude, you hear me? Fired!” They were really making a scene now. I saw the actual waiter I had pointed to earlier coming towards us, looking all concerned.
“Sir, is there a problem?” the waiter asked, real calm. But the angry customer just waved them away, not even looking at them.
“Stay out of this!” the customer shrieked at the waiter. “This employee here needs to learn some manners and do their job! They are refusing to help me with my reservation and my champagne! I’m going to make sure they’re out on the street by tomorrow!” They turned back to me, their eyes narrowed. “You think you can just ignore me? I’ll make sure you regret it!”
My jaw was clenching so hard it hurt. I was seeing red. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I just wanted to eat my dinner. “I. Do. Not. Work. Here!” I enunciated each word, trying to drill it into their head. “Get an actual employee to help you!”
That’s when they lunged. It was so fast, I didn’t even see it coming. A hand flashed out, hard, right across my face. A sharp pain bloomed, and then everything went black.
