It was a busy day at the restaurant when The Brat walked in. The Brat was the nickname the cook had for the daughter of the richest man in town. Whenever she walked through the door, problems were sure to develop.
Sure enough, almost as soon as one of the waitresses, Lessa, arrived with a “special request” for the soup.
“She wants some brand of soup that I’ve never heard of.”
“They’ll take Campbell’s” I said, “and like it.”
“But her guest, a Mr. Colding, also had a request, that you cook his steak rare.”
“Tell him to read the sign.” I said, pointing to the sign that said we do not cook meat rare because of salmonella.
When she came back after a minute, nearly in tears, I said, “Take over for me. I’ll be back.”
A customer who had been watching our conversation said, “Those two will get what’s coming to them, no bout adoubt it.”