Here’s a tip:
When you come out to dinner and are told that we are out of an item, rest assured that we are out of the item. Please don’t send your server in the back to check again for you. We are out of it for everyone, not just you. It’s actually not personal, so don’t take it that way. And don’t take it out on your server. They don’t order the supplies.
Here’s another tip:
Prime rib requires four to six hours to cook. We cook what we think we will sell. We won’t resell it tomorrow. When we run out, we run out. Believe it or not, Sunday is a big prime rib day. Don’t waltz in an hour before we close on a Sunday and expect us to have prime rib. If, by some stroke of luck, we actually do have prime rib at that time, we will probably not have a rare piece. Get here earlier. Or have something else. And stop whining about it. We’ll see if we can’t get you the numbers of the one-hundred guests who had prime rib today. Give one of them a buzz. Yell at them for taking your piece. I’m sure they’ll be delighted to hear from you.
And another one:
Our special menu is very popular. More than likely we will exhaust our supply of at least one part of it by the end of the weekend. Don’t ask what you can substitute. You can’t substitute anything. That’s why it’s a “special” menu. Be happy we run out of things. That means that we rotate our stock frequently. You should regularly eat at establishments that run out of things. That’s actually a good sign. Quit your bellyaching and order already.
What the heck, here’s one more for you:
Stop being so dramatic. Stop using words like crestfallen. This mopey behavior is not going to change anything. Don’t ask what is going to be done for you because you feel inconvenienced. On the inconvenience scale, not getting to eat a slow-cooked slab of fatty meat with a Caesar salad is relatively minor. It probably falls somewhere between a good toe stubbing and taking your neighbor to the airport. The fact that we ran out of prime rib and your salad choices were reduced by one should not ruin your night. Nor should it ruin mine. Get the hangdog look off your face and be grateful that you have ridiculous things like this to be upset about. Not far from here there are, no doubt, children living in cardboard boxes.
You were already told that you would not be compensated for your “terrible” experience. Twice. No, you cannot (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) “have” a slice of cake and a cup of coffee. Frankly, you’re already a little worked up. Sugar and caffeine might just exacerbate your mood. Perhaps you should consider a nice, warm glass of milk. But not here. Because we’re all out of milk.