Mistakes happen. Seldom do they trigger the Doh!’s that resounded after this week’s mishaps. Here, minus the obligatory forehead slaps, is a sampling.
Yes, there is a morning after
A patron had such a good night at Thailicious, a restaurant in Boulder, Colo., that he decided to leave a generous tip on his $60 tab. Carefully, or as carefully as a drunk person can, he counted out the bills for a high-percentage gratuity. But who in that state can remember that it’s George Washington on the front of one-dollar bills, not Ben Franklin?
The customer ended up leaving $1,088.
The waiter was so thrilled that he shared the story with the restaurant’s owner, who felt a tinge of caution. She encouraged the server to put the money aside before he spent it, just as a matter of prudence.
Sure enough, the patron sheepishly approached management and acknowledged he’d make a mistake. Could he have the money back?
She refunded all of his money—the tip, plus the price of the dinner. The unidentified patron handed back $100, with instructions that $60 go toward the meal and the rest be forwarded to the server as a tip.
When recognition goes to far
Experts agree that spotlighting standout staff members can a good way to bolster morale and retention, but Scotty’s Brewhouse in Southport, Ind., learned that not everyone should get a trophy. After awarding Best Bartender and Best Server trophies, the casual place named the winner in the Best Butt category. Astoundingly, the first-place finisher was a woman.
She was called to the stage and asked to turn around so everyone could see why she was bringing how the laurels but could easily sit on them.
The employee didn’t appreciate the attention, and local media learned of the dubious honor.
In the uproar that followed, the manager, emcee of the awards program and apparently solo judge, was asked to surrender his keys and look for work elsewhere.
Bullets and bagels
One of the beloved rituals for New Yorkers is visiting Zabar’s, a legendary food market-slash-deli-slash-noshery in a residential area of Manhattan. The place is slammed virtually every morning as people of all stripes grab their coffee, bagel and smear.
Last week, the experience came with a particularly noteworthy bang. At the height of a the breakfast rush, a customer adjusted his waistband and inadvertently triggered his pistol, shooting himself in the leg.
Other customers fled, fearing that a shooter might have gone postal. But they quickly turned around and waited outside the police tape. As one told a reporter, “We’re New Yorkers—we have to have our Zabar’s.”