“I was working in a small vegan cafe in London. A cute couple came in and had a meal. My pal, who was the barista there, and I kept looking at each other in awe whenever the couple laughed.
She got up, ordered a slice of cheesecake for her and a slice of chocolate cake for him. All of our allergens were written on the cards. She asked if there were nuts in anything so we checked the cards, and no, all good.
She took the cakes back and they started eating. A few minutes, later he got up and came to the counter looking concerned.
He asked, ‘Are you sure there were no nuts? She’s having a bad time.’
So we checked again. The cards said no. I called down to the kitchen to triple-check and yes, the cheesecake was made with soaked, blended nuts. My barista pal freaked out, and the dude himself began to panic. I told him to wait and went to talk to her.
I asked her quietly, ‘Shall I call an ambulance and give him a polite excuse to go so you don’t have to deal with this?’
She responded, ‘No, it’s going well, please, I’ll risk it.’
She did not look well. After some back and forth, we agreed that she would give us a raised hand if she changed her mind, and we spent the rest of the evening watching the poor couple like a hawk.
She got better, they started talking more normally, then laughed, then they went to leave. I explained the complaints procedure as they left and fully expect to be getting sacked.
They both responded, ‘No it’s fine, it’s just an accident,’ which, while true, didn’t warrant such niceness.
We could have, and almost did, kill someone by accident.
Two weeks later the same guy came back in and bought two slices of chocolate cake.
I was trying to decide whether to ask, when he said, ‘It’s going well, by the way, but we’re both sticking to the chocolate cake now, no more cheesecake for her!’
Thank god. In all the ways.'”