Mama... just killed a man...

Well. We have a regular customer. You know those regulars.

He complains about everything to anyone who will lend an ear. Burger too well done, burger not done enough, too much sauce, not enough sauce, too much broth, too much chicken, it never ends. Keep in mind he sits and reads his paper for twenty minutes and wonders why his coffee is cold. You've waited tables for three days, you know this man.

So I decided, next time I get a complaint, (AKA next time I waited on him), I was going to say something. This night, the coffee was warm and the food cold. I tried to see what I could do - take it back, nuke it, give him something else. No. "You're going to take it back cold and it's going to come back cold. I don't know why I come back here anymore."

"Well, you find something to complain about every time you come in, I don't know why you come back either."

He told me he was here for the "good" years, and now apparently the "bad" years. I told him we're getting new customers, we're advertising, etc etc and we have NOT had complaints.

He finally pays and leaves, taking the burger home for the dog. He's still in the parking lot when we close up about 45 minutes later, so we knock on his window and he says he's waiting for an ambulance. They come, they take him, a friend picks his car up the next morning and I hope I didn't give him a heart attack.