What Women Want

"Black coffee please and a scone with jam and cream," she said.
But she didn't really mean it.  
I delivered the order to the table.
"May I have some milk for my coffee?" she said.
I apologised. Said I thought, wrongly, that she wanted it black.
"Oh I probably ordered black. I'm always doing that."

Then there was the lady who asked if the soup was gluten-free.
Yes it is. Always. Although we don't have gluten-free bread to go with it (must do something about that).
She had the bread anyway.
Then she ordered a gluten-free orange, carrot and sultana cake.
When we took it to her she greeted it warmly: "I don't suppose this will be as nice as the cake I had 2 days ago."
Hmmm.
When I next went through the plate was clean.
And she was eating a scone.
Our scones are not gluten-free.
But that didn't seem to worry her.

Then there was the lady who told me she'd really enjoyed her jacket potato. 
"It's been a lovely interlude here," she beamed, "and it's my 85th birthday."
She was another who had to look to the gluten-free cakes on offer. I took her the ginger and lemon with a candle in it.
As I approached the table everyone in the conservatory started to sing.
I found out her name during line 2 and shouted it to the choir before the crucial bit.
"Happy Birthday dear Betty..."
Her daughter told me she was chuffed to bits.