When Nate’s grandparents plan to celebrate their anniversary with a fancy dinner at a local restaurant, his grandmother visits to choose the dishes she wants on the table. But something happens when she knocks over a plate, and she’s kicked out. But Nate plans revenge.
It was supposed to be a simple visit – a grandmother checking out the quality of the food at a local restaurant for her 50th wedding anniversary dinner with her husband, surrounded by their close family.
An old couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
Yet what happened to my grandmother was nothing short of disrespectful and truly heartbreaking.
My grandparents were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary in a week. My grandmother wanted to host a big family dinner, and to make sure everything was perfect, she decided to go to the restaurant alone to finalize the menu and taste a few dishes for dinner, including a meatloaf she had specially requested.
Meatloaf in a tray | Source: Pixabay
“Meatloaf?” my mother asked him. “Why would you want meatloaf for your fancy dinner?”
“Because it’s sentimental, Penny,” my grandmother replied, smiling. “Your father and I ate meatloaf on our first date, and it’s been one of the constants of our marriage.”
“Meatloaf Mondays,” my mother says, laughing. “That was the case throughout my childhood.”
A dinner of meatloaf and potatoes | Source: Pixabay
“Do you want me to come with you, Grandma?” I asked her, because I wasn’t sure my 72-year-old grandmother could face the world alone. Although my grandmother prided herself on her good health, she sometimes needed help to keep her balance.
“No, Nate,” she replied. “I’ll figure it out! And that way, during dinner, you can be surprised too.”
The day my grandmother was ready to do her restaurant tasting tour, I dropped her off and went home to work.
An old woman with walking sticks | Source: Pexels
“Tell the restaurant to call me when you’re ready, okay?” I said, closing the car door for her.
I continued with my day, but I received a call from my grandmother about two hours later. She was in tears and completely devastated.
I immediately went to the restaurant.
A man holding the steering wheel | Source: Pexels
It turned out that when she entered the restaurant and ordered the dishes she wanted to taste, the table naturally became full.
As Grandma tried to position herself, her elbow hit the table, causing one of the plates to fall and shatter on the floor.
Instead of helping her, the waiter let his frustration get the better of him and he lost his temper. He berated my grandmother and called her an “old witch.”
A broken plate | Source: Pexels
“Who let an old witch like you into this restaurant?” he asked, picking up the largest pieces of the broken plate. “Look at this mess. And soon, people will be rushing to eat.”
When my grandmother got to the car, she was shaking, tears streaming down her face as she tried to tell me what had happened.
“I’ve never felt so bad,” she mumbled. “It was just a mistake, Nate. I asked if they should charge me for the plate, but the waiter just laughed. And told me to leave.”
An old woman looking down | Source: Pexels
As I drove, I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say or how to comfort my grandmother. All she wanted was to throw a big wedding anniversary dinner for my grandfather, with the rest of the family.
She wanted to spoil us and be spoiled in return with family stories and laughter around the table.
As I drove, I tried to vent my anger. I didn’t want to lose my temper in front of my grandmother. She’d already seen enough anger for one day.
A family sitting around a table | Source: Pexels
We came home and I made my grandmother a cup of tea to help calm her down.
I was furious but calm—I had a connection to the restaurant, something I hadn’t yet revealed to my family. But I could use the anonymity to my advantage. The server needed a lesson in humility and respect.
A cup of tea | Source: Pexels
A few days before my birthday dinner, my grandmother came to me while I was sitting in front of my laptop and tried to cancel the dinner.
“Maybe we should do something at home,” she said. “Maybe having dinner at home is the best solution, because we’ll all be comfortable and more carefree.”
“But you’ve been waiting for this for so long,” I said.
A table for a family dinner | Source: Pexels
“Yes, but I don’t want to go back, Nate,” she said sadly. “That waiter was a real bastard. His mother would be so disappointed.”
For my plan to work, we had to be at a restaurant, so I insisted that my grandmother just organize dinner as she had planned.
“You’re a chef!” she exclaimed. “Nate, you know how to cook.”
A man in the kitchen holding a saucepan | Source: Pexels
“It’s too late, Grandma,” I said darkly. “Let’s do it, I promise you won’t have to put up with the waiter.”
A few days later, when our family gathered at a restaurant for the celebration, the same waiter served us – I saw my grandmother’s face fall when she realized who it was.
She tried to make herself small, hiding behind the bouquet of flowers I had bought for her.
A person holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Unsplash
A distinct confusion crossed the waiter’s face when he saw my grandparents proudly sitting beside me. He paled and tried to calm himself down.
I ordered the dishes my grandmother wanted for the table and refused to acknowledge it further.
“Good evening, I hope you enjoy yourselves,” he said, glancing cautiously at my grandmother once all the dishes were placed in front of us.
A waiter holding a notepad | Source: Unsplash
I wanted to wait until late to talk about the subject that was close to my heart.
The truth was, for the past few weeks, I’d been busy securing ownership of the restaurant. I’d spent years in the culinary industry, starting out washing dishes in restaurants after school and then working my way up to head chef.
My grandparents helped my mother pay for cooking school, and so I announced that I was now the new owner of the restaurant we were sitting in.
A person signing a document | Source: Pexels
When I discovered the place was for sale, I wanted to buy it immediately and transform it into a place that would maintain our family’s legacy, with special recipes passed down from my grandmother.
After dessert, an assortment of small portions that awaken the senses, I stood up to speak.
The service had been exemplary all evening, as the staff knew exactly who I was. So, when the server came to bring my grandfather’s coffee, I asked him to share his thoughts on customer service.
A range of desserts | Source: Unsplash
Annoyed, he wiped his hands on his apron and stammered about respect and courtesy.
“You must take care of everyone who enters the restaurant, sir,” he said. “You told us to treat them as if they were guests in our own homes.”
I nodded, hoping my family hadn’t noticed that the waiter knew me.
A smiling server | Source: Pexels
I then turned the conversation over to my grandmother, who spoke eloquently not about her pain, but about the importance of kindness and memories tied to the meatloaf and other elements of the dishes she had chosen for that dinner.
“I wanted to try to find something that my husband and I could relate to our lives. Like chicken—we had made a similar lemon chicken dish for our wedding reception.”
An old woman sitting at a table | Source: Pexels
With the room hanging on his every word, the waiter’s remorse was palpable. He apologized sincerely, his shame evident to all.
That’s when I revealed the truth to my family, telling them that I was the new owner of the restaurant and that I planned to make big changes.
My grandmother looked at me with pride, finally seeing that I was where I was meant to be: building my own culinary niche in the world.
A man in a suit sitting at a table | Source: Pexels
As for the server, I offered him two choices:
“You can leave with a month’s salary or you can stay and complete a comprehensive customer service training program.”
To his credit, and to our collective surprise, he chose to stay and learn.
Training course materials on a desk | Source: Pexels
A few months later, its transformation has become the cornerstone of our restaurant’s reputation. It has exemplified the power of second chances and become a favorite among our customers.
But that’s not all: whenever my grandmother came to the restaurant to help me work on a recipe, he was the first to make sure she was taken care of. He brought her cups of tea and baskets of breadsticks.
Today, when I think about the restaurant and how my grandmother went from disrespect to idolization, all I want is to know that she will be appreciated—and that all the lessons she teaches in my kitchen will be taken to heart.
A smiling old woman wearing a coat | Source: Pexels
What would you have done in my place?
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This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the story. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims regarding the accuracy of events or character portrayals and are not responsible for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and all opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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