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Eh. Som people are like that. I used to work in a coffee shop and got the same. Too much cream, not enough cream.
I figure if you're that bloody precise about these things, you ought to stay home and make your own coffee/pizza/whatever the hell else it is. A restaurant is entirely unable to foresee exactly how you like something, especially if you don't mention it beforehand (don't know if she did or not).
I feel bad for the husband, in all honesty. Poor guy was just out to enjoy a meal and gets thoroughly embarrassed by his wife.
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I wake up in the morning more tired than before I slept
I get through cryin' and I'm sadder than before I wept
I get through thinkin' now, and the thoughts have left my head
I get through speakin' and I can't remember, not a word that I said
- Ben Harper, Show Me A Little Shame
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