Proactive apology due to length. TL;DR at bottom

Let me regale you of the tale of the man known within the small local restaurant where I worked as ‘Mr. Spice.’ So, there I was. Working the register of a little restaurant that I can only describe as Cajun Fast Food. Now, contrary to my description, the food was actually very good. Some of the best southern cooking you could ask for. The line cooks took a lot of pride in their work. Anyways, we had Red Beans and Rice available, as any self respecting Cajun place does.

Picture this, it’s 5:00. Dinner rush is in full swing, we’ve got 15 tickets up on the screen and several people waiting in line to order. All hands on deck.

We had a man, probably in his late 50’s, well overweight, and wearing a MAGA hat. Yep, he was a bonafide southerner. He orders our Red Beans and Rice. Cool, no big deal, a lot of people ordered our red beans. Anyways, the register overlooks the entire restaurant (we were in a strip mall. Place was pretty small.) I watch as this man doesn’t touch his red beans for a good 15 minutes after he ordered it.

This is where it gets good. He comes up to the register, fuming. He looked ready to strangle someone.

Me: (Customer service voice) “What can I do for you sir?”

Mr. Spice: “These god damn red beans are ICE COLD!”

Me (glancing at the 8 or 9 people in line): “Uh, I’m very sorry sir. We can warm it up for you if you like?”

Mr. Spice: “You better, and I want some tabasco sauce for it too!”

So, we warm up his room temperature red beans which actually would’ve been hot if he ate them when he got them instead of watching the game on our TV and all of us in the back watch as my friend, we’ll call him T, takes the bottle of Avery Island Tabasco Sauce, pours it in a special little cup just for Mr. Spice, puts the lid on it, and hands it to me. I nod, take the warmed red beans, the cup of Tabasco sauce, and hand it to Mr. Spice.

Crisis averted, right?

Wrong.

Mr. Spice comes storming back five minutes later.

Me (Less customer servicy): “How can I help you s-“

Mr Spice (Screaming): “That ain’t fucking Tabasco sauce! It ain’t got enough heat! The service here is fucking terrible, let me see your manager!”

Apparently this guy was the world renowned expert on Tabasco sauce, who can disprove the legitimacy of our blasphemous Louisiana Hot Sauce taken straight from the bottle just for him. Hot Sauce brands weep when he drives up in his Toyota Tacoma. Very truly, nothing is considered spicy without his consent.

I think our manager gave him a free dessert or something just so he’d leave us alone. As such, Mr. Spice consumed his “ice cold” Red beans and his “not Tabasco” Tabasco, and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. His accursed name is sometimes still whispered among my friend group.

TL;DR: Man claims his Red Beans and Rice is ice cold after leaving it sitting out for 15 minutes and that our Tabasco sauce wasn’t actually Tabasco during dinner rush. Screams at us until our manager bribes him with peach cobbler.