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The customer is always right. And yet, as 'listentomyopinion' writes, this is utter bollocks.
Tell us of the customers who were wrong, wrong, wrong but you still had to smile at (if only to take their money.)
( , Thu 4 Sep 2008, 16:42)
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My mother came to visit me when I was a 'poor, impoverished student' living in (then) trendy Islington (now 'the Faliraki of North London').
As a special treat for her little lamb, wasting away in penury, she took me out to the very excellent Gallipoli on Upper Street for dinner.
'Ah, Mr Boyce!' the enthusiastic front of house chappie bellowed, 'your usual table?'
My mother has been, ahem, dining out on that one for years since...
( , Tue 9 Sep 2008, 13:15, Reply)
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