Workplace favors get complicated when somebody starts treating kindness like part of your job.

During a brutal dinner rush, one hungover server keeps demanding eggplant parmesan while his overwhelmed coworker repeatedly tells him no.

Then he refuses the cook a simple water refill, turning an annoying food request into something considerably more personal.

Check out why his next plate came with a side of extremely petty revenge.

Kitchen rag parmesan.

Many many years ago I worked as a line cook for a chain Italian restaurant with an open kitchen concept.

The drink machine was on the other side of the service counter from the kitchen meaning cooks couldn’t easily get their own drinks during the lunch or dinner rush without burning somebody’s food.

I worked on the sauté line and cannot stress enough how hot it is working 8 sauté burners at once. So, like all the cooks there I relied on servers to refill my drink when the restaurant was busy. It was part of their job.

That makes sense; you have to feed the paying customers first.

Now, servers would always ask for a quick bite during their shifts and if I could I’d toss them something quick and easy to eat like a bowl of pasta or some pre-cooked grilled chicken.

That said, feeding them (especially during the rush) was my lowest priority.

So, one Saturday in the summer this one server, lets call him Knucklehead, comes in hungover. He walks up to me and tells me he *needs* some eggplant parm because he’s hungover and he’s starving and he’s just got to have something greasy.

This is about 6PM and service starting to pick up. I’m busy, so I tell him no, it’s just not going to happen.

He grumbles something and wanders off.

Why does this guy think he is entitled to a full entree?

Maybe 30 minutes later Knucklehead comes back with the same request but this time with more attitude. I

tell him I’m busy and to leave me alone and go eat some of bread (which was always available if somebody was truly hungry).

He huffs and puffs about how inconsiderate I am then wanders off again.

7:30PM: Full-on dinner rush and the place is buzzing. It’s hot as heck in the kitchen and I’m flipping pans and sweating. My cup is empty so I put it on the counter and call out to the first server I see, Knucklehead, requesting a top-off of water.

He looks at me with a stupid grin and says: “Why would I help you when you wouldn’t even make me a measly eggplant parm?”

Ok…game on, buddy.

I can see where this is going, and I love it.

I instantly decide revenge is worth getting in the weeds and, after getting a refill from somebody else, I take my kitchen towel (i.e. the rag you use to wipe cutting boards, knifes, random spills or any other nasty stuff that needs to be wiped up) and I cut two eggplant-sized holes in it.

Those two pieces of rag were meticulously seasoned, dipped in flour, then egg wash, then coated in breading before being tossed into the frying pan until golden brown. Each one received a generous scoop of red sauce and a handful of mozzarella. After a minute or two in the broiler, the cheese was melty, browning and bubbly.

It looked delicious. Were it not a rag it might have been the best eggplant parm I ever made.

I bet this story became quite the legend for years to come.

By the time I gave it to Knucklehead all the other cooks knew what I was up to and were trying not to giggle too much.

I’ll never forget the look of joy in his hungover, bloodshot eyes when he took it from me. He got exactly what he wanted, or so he thought. He even offered to refill my cup, which I politely declined.

Back to work and now orders are a little backed up but I catch up.

No sign of Knucklehead. After all, who knows where rats go to eat their garbage (plus he’s got tables to take care of).

Did he really eat the rag!?

Maybe 15 or 20 minutes later he reemerges. He comes up to me and says: “Hey dude, I think there’s something wrong with the eggplant. I think they’re rotten or something. You might want to check because I bet customers will complain…”

“Oh yea,” I replied “Let me check to see how fresh it is.”

Then I hold up the rag with the two holes cut out of it for him to see. “Looks fresh to me!”

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All the cooks burst into laughter at the look on his face when he realized what he had just eaten.

Another server told me later that he finished the whole thing.

He never ever asked me for food again.

How did he not realize he was eating a rag and not eggplant? He must have been really hungover.

Let’s see what the people in the comments on Reddit think about it.

Yeah, it wouldn’t taste that bad.

Now that is gross.

If you enjoyed this story, check out this post about a customer who wants to argue about an item they chose not being on sale.

This commenter didn’t like the story.

OP eventually served the demanding coworker a fake eggplant parmesan made from pieces of kitchen rag, which he somehow ate before noticing something was wrong.

When the truth was revealed, the entire kitchen cracked up, and the server never asked OP for food again.

He wanted eggplant parmesan so badly that apparently texture became optional.