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I went to a Chinese place for lunch. When I go, I tend to sit at this one table by the door, but the place was packed. Instead, I sat over by the “kitchen” area. It’s an open space where patrons can watch the cooks do all their stir-frying and rice steaming.

The wait staff is always very attentive, so I was quite surprised to see this crazed, white haired man walk past the cash register and three waiters and barge right up to the “kitchen”. He was all “Hey, hey!” to the cooks and one of them finally looked over at him. In a noticeably French accent, he yelled, “Noodles with shrimp. And chicken. To go. Now!!”

The cook stared at him for a bit, then went back to his wok. “Don’t you understand the English?!” he yelled. The cook ignored him. The wait staff stayed away. The man finally walked out the door.

Then… five minutes later, the man reappeared, walked right back up to the “kitchen” and yelled, “Extra spicy on that order!” This time the cook turned to the man and said, “Look, Pierre. I don’t know how they do things out in Versailles, but here in Westwood, we have a little something called waiters. Barging in here and bypassing the whole diner-waiter dynamic is a disgrace to you, me, and the entire LA Basin.”

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