Why, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.
Background: I don't eat raw onions. Ever. They give me horrible indigestion. Love onion rings, but no raw onions. 'K?
We each ordered something different, my friends first. Mine was some burger, and the picture in the menu had onions, so I specifically asked to NOT have them. Waitress says, Sure, fine.
One of my friends can be loud and quite obnoxious, she's a bit socially stunted, and we (other friend and I) had to remind her once or twice to keep her voice down. Nothing inappropriate, mind you. She's not stupid or nasty, just clueless. Waitress has already given us drinks, is glaring and sighing at us from the counter, where she seems to be doing detail-y thing like filling ketchup bottles and napkin dispensers. I couldn't exactly see, but she seemed occupied.
Our orders come up, all at once (yay cooks!) and she brings them over. Sets them in front of us in the wrong places, no big deal, we switch them ourselves, and she sees this and sniffs. Oh, great.
I spotted onion in my burger. LOADS OF IT. CHOPPED. Mashed into the cheese, so picking it out would be impossible without losing all of my cheese as well. You might see this coming, but I didn't:
Loki: Excuse me, there's onion on this burger. I asked for no onion.
Waitress: No, you didn't. And you got onion rings, so obviously it's not a problem.
Loki: *amazed* No, it IS a problem, this will give me heartburn. Please, can I get a fresh burger?
Waitress: You're kidding. You didn't ASK for no onion.
Loki: *ignores friends' suggestions to 'talk to the manager, this is bullshit'* I'm quite sure that I did make the request. I would like a fresh burger, please, with no onions.
Waitress: FINE. Next time, why don't you WRITE IT DOWN OR SOMETHING.
Loki: *fumes silently* I will NOT call for a manager, I will NOT lose my temper, I will NOT be a sucky customer. (Heh. My reading choices on LJ are showing, aren't they?)
Fifteen minutes later, she slaps a second burger down in front of me. I swear I thought the plate was going to crack. The friggin' bun has large holes in it, like she spent a minute or two poking her fingers into it and violating my food. (Oh crap, the mental images are going to bother me for an hour after this, I can tell.)
Anyway, that was it. So it's two in the morning and you've decided that you don't give a shit about giving people the food they've actually ordered? Asshole, don't work a night job if you're that friggin' unhappy.
Like butter wouldn't melt in my mouth, I ask for the manager. She stalks off to find him, and before they come out together, I can hear her in the back screeching at him. We're all convinced she's inventing some hideous story about us, and Friend 1 keeps saying things like, "We could take her to court if you got sick from that." (As if I'd eat it in that condition! Come on, wake up a bit.)
Manager comes out, with Waitress. She looks sulky and worried, and we discover that this is her SECOND warning of the night for being rude to customers. He offers to make our meals free, all of us, and has Waitress apologize.
So: night manager good, Waitress bad. All I'd had by then was a side of rings and my drinks, but I didn't want to insist on a THIRD burger, as it would've meant spending more time in Waitress' company, and I'm just not that good an actor. Sure, maybe it doesn't sound so bad, but the attitude was horrifying. Like we were disturbing her in some OTHER very important duties, and weren't we the utter assholes for being in the restaurant during her shift. Argh.
ETA: Fixed my error: onion rings, not fries.