Don’t Get Close to My Child!
This took place a couple of years ago, when I was 17 and I used to spend part of my summers helping out in my grandpa’s restaurant. The restaurant was located on the bottom floor of our family house in a little village (30 inhabitants) and my maternal great-grandparents lived on the upper floor.
In the restaurant, my great-grandmother and my grandma were in charge of cooking and my great-grandpa and granddad were in charge of attending the tables. It was kind of small, as it had like eight tables of four on the inside, and we could set another two outside if the weather was good.
As the restaurant also served as a bar, it was filled with locals. Since many of them were retired, they used to spend the whole day playing cards and drinking, so although it was a small location, in summer usually it was full of people.
Also, my great-grandparents founded this restaurant in the year 1941, therefore it was well-known and had a good reputation among the locals.
I’m also proud to say that my great-grandparents were very loved in their community as they really were great people.
Although it was a quite remote place, in summer we used to get like four or five groups of tourists per week.
The rule was that my brother and I were in charge of serving their tables as we were the only ones who knew any other language than Spanish, our native tongue.
Our opening hours at the time were from 12:00 to 22:30 but the kitchen was only open from 13:00 to 15:00 and from 19:30 to 21:00. We only served one menu, composed of a starter, two main dishes, dessert, and cider or water.
So now the story. It was around 16:00, therefore most of the customers had finished eating and were chatting over a cup of coffee or some pints. My grandparents and great-grandparents were still eating as they waited until everyone was finished.
Meanwhile, my brother and I were in charge of serving the tables just in case anyone wanted something else to drink.
Suddenly we hear a car outside, and I can hear a woman loudly speaking in English. As soon as they enter, this happens.
Her: We would like to have a table, X from the Y Hotel told us this was a great place to eat. Me: I’m sorry ma’am, but the kitchen is already closed as it’s kind of late. Her: Yes, it’s late because we got lost in these stupid roads! Is it so difficult to put proper signals? Also, we have a little kid who is hungry.
Me: Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, let me check If I can do something for you. I then went inside and explained the situation to my grandma, who told me to attend them as everything was already prepared and it would be just heating the food.
Her: Well, are you going to give us a table or not? If the kitchen is closed, how is it that those people are eating.
At this point, she pointed at my grandpas. At the moment, I thought she was behaving like that because she was kind of hungry.
I wasn’t really used to dealing with rude people, as the majority of tourists used to be really respectful. Me: Well those are the owners, so they can eat whenever they want. (I said this while laughing a bit). Anyway, I have just asked them and you will be able to eat too, so please follow me to your table.
They follow me to the table and I explain to them that there is only one menu. They give me a strange look but they seem OK with that. I serve them the bread and I put a bottle of water on the table.
They start devouring the bread so my “They were a bit rude cause they were hungry” theory seemed to be confirmed.
I was so, so wrong. As soon as I bring the starter, the dad demands to have the Wi-Fi password. Him: Hey, we see that there is a Wi-Fi network, what’s is the password?
Me: Yes, there is one. However, the Wi-Fi is for the staff’s personal use. (We had a measured and reeeeally slow connection that my grandpa used for checking some newspapers and my brother and I used for sending Whatsapps to our friends).
Him: That’s ridiculous! We are paying customers and we deserve to have access to your Wi-Fi! Mom: Yes, our little angel wants to watch some videos. We don’t have any kind of internet access here! Me: Sorry, but as I have said it’s for personal use.
Mom: That’s not right, this would be unacceptable in America. Me: Well, I’m sorry to inform you that we are not in America.
The mom tells something to the kid and he starts running around the restaurant, stomping his feet and shouting.
My great-grandpa comes to me and asks me what is happening, I explain the whole situation to him and he asks me to please translate what he is going to say. Him: Please lady control your child, or I will have to ask you three to leave.
Her: DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY CHILD YOU DINOSAUR! Father: DON’T GET CLOSE TO MY CHILD YOU OLD CREEP! By this point, everyone is of course looking with disbelief to these morons.
I hesitate for a second, but translate all of this to my great-grandpa, expecting a not really nice reaction. Instead of saying anything, he slowly turns around and asks two men who are sitting at a table to take the whole family out of his restaurant.
I proceed to explain to the family that if they don’t get out, those two men, who also happened to be police officers, would be taking them out. They don’t seem to believe that those two men were officers and they refused to leave until we served them.
Finally, both men stood up, showed their plaques, and asked them (in their best English) to leave. They finally stand up and leave. However, as they were leaving the officers realized that they had parked in front of our garage, blocking it.
At that point, they decided to ask for their rental car papers while taking a couple of photos and giving them a fine for blocking a private property garage. Chipotito