Who you can get away with being a dick/bitch too in the service industry and who you can't

...or (The pubes in my Arby's roast beef sandwich and the reasons why)
This is a cautionary tale as much as it is an educational musing of life as I've found it along my travels. My aunt is a great woman and to know her is to love her, but one should be very careful going out to eat with her. She has a bad tendency to be the customer people hate in a restaurant. She wants quality and she wants it her way, and in reality this isn't a bad thing but in food service it can help you in your consumption of pubes, spit, body hair, and kitchen floor filth. She has been on occasion a tad fussy about her meal and at times has arrived for said meal under 10 minutes before the kitchen closes and no buddy but the closers are still in the restaurant. This is taking your dining experience into crazy town.
Let me also state I've worked a few kitchens in my day and so I'm not talking from the witless patron side of things... I've seen the darkside.
There was a small sandwich shop in my home town called Daddy's Deli and it was my aunt's favorite. This should have been a warning because this eatery being her favorite meant she had been there a lot. I remember it like it was yesterday that my mother and I went with my aunt to the Deli of the Daddy, but this visit was to color my life in a hue of heave. This day we visited went down in my memories of youth as the attack of the pubes. That's right... evidently someone in the kitchen (could have been Daddy himself) knew who was eating and put a lil of himself in the meal. I remember looking at my mother's drink cup and noticing all these dark curly hairs on it, and being the observant nipper I pointed them out. Mom turned green... because not only were they on the drink but all over the plate as well. Everyone had a sandwich with a side of curlies from down under. Daddy must have been bald from belt buckle down from the amount of hair that was their. Mother's face had that silent scream on it and we left with her almost wanting to puke and I'm not really sure if she didn't...twas many moons ago and I've blocked out a lot. We told my aunt but for some reason she didn't care... didn't believe... or lived in some deep ghetto in the land of denial. Whatever the case we (my mother and me) never went back to Daddy's Deli after consuming some of Daddy. To this very day I can mention this visit to my mother and she gets sick and hollers "Shut up" shuddering as if remembering a birthday party as a child where the clown blowing up balloons was walking around with his dick out.
What my major point is in all this is, when one is dining out it is really good to get there at a good time and be nice along with not to fussy. Otherwise, you just might be getting your daily dose of humanity literally. Sure fuss at your mechanic, construction worker, and doctor/dentist, but watch your ass when the folks in the service industry you're bitching at are handling your food, because as Daddy proved not only are they handling your food they are handling their balls....who wants lunch?