#16 Who Stole the Ring?
I was the manager of a wings-and-pizza place with a full bar – definitely not the kind of place you’d take someone for a “romantic” Valentine’s Day dinner, but it was still busy because some people aren’t very tactful.
We had a guy who had called ahead and asked if we could put a ring in a dessert for him and of course, we obliged. He dropped the ring off the day ahead and I put it in the safe in our office to keep it secure.
Fast forward to Valentine’s Day. The couple shows up, and they’re so obviously in love that she didn’t seem to notice or care about the fact that he had brought her to a middle-of-the road place with a sports-bar atmosphere on the most romantic day of the year. They ordered champagne (well, the local winery’s best sparkling white), entrees, and it was almost time for dessert. I had used my Chef skills to whip up a special chocolate strawberry tart that wasn’t on the menu, just for this occasion (because why not try to make their night at least a little fancy?)
I went to the safe to get the ring, and… It wasn’t there. I was freaking out big time. I asked everyone there if they knew what the f**k had happened to it. My assistant manager on-site had no idea, so I called my other assistant (who also had the safe code) and they didn’t know, either. Finally, my bar manager mentioned that one of the owners had been in earlier, and spent a little time in the office. So, at my wit’s end, I called the owner.
It turns out that he had seen the ring in the safe, and thought it was something a customer had left behind. Figuring that he had come into an extremely lucky situation, he decided (like the scumbag he was) that he’d take it for himself and save money on a gift for his wife on Valentine’s.
So, I asked the server and bar manager to help stall the couple. The server told them that we were going to do something special for their big date, and to hold tight.
I ran out, hopped in my car, and rushed to get the ring from the owner’s house (because he was – as I had mentioned – a scumbag, and didn’t want to be bothered with bringing the ring to the restaurant himself).
The bar manager went over to the table, and did some complicated, table-side cocktail mix that had a bunch of flair bartending tricks and ended with a flaming shot that, once dropped into the rest, made it smoke (I was really disappointed when I heard about all of this because I would have loved to see it instead of breaking a ton of traffic laws on my quest to get the ring).
Finally, I rushed back in after about 15 minutes of being on the brink of a heart attack, placed the ring on the dessert, and had their server take it out. At that point, just about the entire staff was watching the table, and when we saw the look on her face, my heart finally started beating again.
She said “Yes.” And, I started looking for someone else to work for the very next day. —Icmedia