"When I worked at the resort outside of Atlantic City with my husband, we had some elite customers. During a typical year, we would have celebrities and big spenders. With the casinos nearby, some would stay at our resort to get out of the city, which could be unsavory.

We had one regular I’ll call 'Mr. H.' He was in his 60s and came in on weekends during the summer. He expected the red carpet to be rolled out for him. He was no more special than anyone else except for the fact that he’d wave money to get attention. I can’t recall seeing him smile and he was very blunt. Shouting was his regular level of talking to people.

He’d palm money to the maître d' to get the table he desired. He would stuff money in the server’s apron or anyone else working the room to get what he wanted.

When it came to ordering, he’d create the food he wanted instead of choosing from the menu. His order would be given to the lead cook, 'JW,' on the hotline. After his food was served, Mr. H would send the server to ask the cook to come out to the dining room to see him. He would give him $25 (today this would be $43). This money was hard-earned because Mr. H was VERY particular.

JW left the hotel, so the next cook in seniority would take care of Mr. H. One evening, he didn't meet Mr. H’s expectations. He was quickly relieved of the duty. I was next up. I followed his instructions perfectly for the baked crab dish he wanted. It was nerve-racking. Besides the extra time taken to please Mr. H, we were expected to keep up with the other orders. I was shaking as it was my turn to be ushered to his table. He said thanks as he gave me $25. I was relieved he had no complaints, but not so excited when he named me his new go-to cook.

For a time, I was one of his minions. One evening, I was too busy with regular orders to take the time with Mr. H. I decided to pass it over to JD, a good friend of mine who I could trust to make his order correctly. He was on the banquet crew, and had the time since they were done for the evening. I went over the details very carefully with JD. He was very clear he did not want any salt added to his food.

When I went out to see Mr. H for the cash, much to my surprise, I was berated instead. He went on a tirade about how awful his crab was, especially due to the extra salt added. Luckily, I can’t remember the exact words said to me.

I was actually thankful to be relieved of this duty. And I secretly relished the sight of the next cook nervously jump to his orders. It was not worth the extra cash. Later, I realized this man was robbing the other customers of the experience they were owed."