Special order this!

Tonight I did the unimaginable. I did something none of you could fathom, something that has apparently never crossed your mind. I went out to eat! That’s right. Restaurant managers are customers too. I went to this great little Chinese restaurant that I frequent once or twice a month and I was greeted at my table by a waitress that had only waited on my guest and I once before and the most amazing thing happened. She asked if we would like iced tea to drink. After bringing us our tea she asked if we were going to have the Mongolian bar-b-que just as we had last time! (She even remembered our respective soup choices, WOW!!!) She remembered us. Not because we made asses of ourselves in the past but because we tipped 30 percent; appreciated her fine service, and treated her with the dignity and respect that she deserves. Now mind you there have been times I have eaten there that the food wasn't perfect but the service was great. I take good care of the servers and they take care of me. Funny how that works, huh? She once again earned my hard earned dollars and will be my server of choice in the future.
There was a family of 6 eating and one of the ladies got the Mongolian bar-b-que. Now this family needed a few more table manners but overall, they were alright minus the mouthy children making fun of the Asian staff and the use of chopsticks. For those of you that don’t know, Mongolian bar-b-que is a buffet style dish that you create by adding the vegetables, meat, and sauces that you like and then the cook flash cooks the ingredients on a specialized flat wok and then you eat it over rice. YOU CREATE YOUR OWN MEAL. The lady that ordered the bar-b-que asked to see the manager as she didn’t like the food and felt she shouldn’t pay and then got Bitchy when the manager told her that she created it and still offered to get something else. The manager explained that Mongolian bar-b-que is the same thing as a special order and there is no comping of special orders. The lady asked for the owners name and as it turned out the manager was the owner. No big corporation to bilk, no one else to bitch to. The final word came down. TOUGH! The old lady screeched she’d never be back. The owner had that pleasant look of thank God, one less nasty, mean, rude customer to deal with, that in the long run would end up costing much more than she’s worth (this takes into account actual revenue and mental anguish caused by such unreasonable asses). What am I missing? This makes no sense. At what point did the restaurant owner become liable for your stupidity? This is no different than the create your own seafood feast or create your own pasta found at other main stream casual restaurants.
You make it; you eat it, well at least pay for it and keep chewing on this.

Mr. Restaurant