Upon our arrival at work, the front of house staff were handed small, silenced pistols and told that, going forward, we would be expected to, on occasion, execute our customers gangland style.
It was hoped that this would provide a simple, elegant solution to the guests who got too drunk, spoke too loudly, and generally disrupted their neighbors enjoyment of their meals. According to our new policy: At the request of a customer, we would drag the offending patron out into the parking lot, put a bullet in them, and toss their body into a specially marked biohazard dumpster located to the side of the building for later disposal before cleaning up any blood that might have spattered on us, hygene is important in food service, and returning to our duties, allowing other customers to enjoy their dinner in well deserved peace.
The restaurant’s lawyers, we were assured, had already worked out the various thorny legal details. There would be no consequences to us personally for the people we were asked to kill.
Nor should there be. It’s just a job after all, and minimum wage plus tips isn’t worth going to court over.
It seemed, we reflected, the sort of scheme that might actually work. After all, it’s only a few rowdy patrons who ruin the evening for everyone else. Nonetheless, we were naturally profoundly uncomfortable at the prospect.
Not uncomfortable that we’d be expected to commit murder, mind you, it’s the dream of every waiter to be allowed to kill the occasional guest. Rather, uncomfortable at how the decision as to who needed to die would be made.
We’re fine with killing customers.
We just don’t want YOU to choose who lives or dies…