Creepy encounter at a restaurant in Paris

It was my 30th birthday a few weeks ago, and I had some friends from school coming over to celebrate. I live in a pretty small flat, and since I have 3 friends coming to stay, I thought it would be a good idea to book a nice restaurant for us to have dinner at. <br><br>I booked a table at a little restaurant close by, and when we got there the waitress was very welcoming, we had a lovely table with a view and she took our drink order. At first, the food came out fine, but then one of my friends had to ask 3 times for her dessert to come out, and the last time she asked, she got a really short answer. After that we just kind of forgot about it, because we were busy chatting, but then my friend was like, “where’s my Tarte Tatin?!?!” And I was like, “I don’t know, maybe we should ask the waiter.”<br><br>So we waved him down, and I said, “excuse me, sorry to bother you, but our friend has been waiting a really long time for her dessert and we just wanted to know where it was at.” <br><br>The waiter was very stern, and kind of brusque in his response. “I know, I know. We’re really backed up in the kitchen.” And then he walked away. Okay, no big deal, maybe they’re short staffed and the kitchen is in disarray, we’ll just ask the waitress when she comes back. <br><br>But the waitress kind of disappeared. I mean, she did come back to refill drinks a couple times, but she didn’t seem all that interested in checking on us. My friend was getting more and more agitated, and I was like, “Maybe we should just order the check and leave.” But she was determined to get her Tarte Tatin, because it was her birthday too. (We were all born on the same day.)<br><br>So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I got up to go to the kitchen and ask about the dessert, but when I got there, it was locked. I kind of laughed it off and was like, “oh weird, I guess they’re backed up.” And then I went back to the table. <br><br>And then my friend was pissed. She was like, “I don’t care if they’re backed up! I’m leaving if I don’t get that dessert in the next 10 minutes!” And I was like, “okay okay let me go back to the kitchen and ask them.” So I got up and went to the kitchen again. <br><br>This time when I got to the kitchen, I kind of looked around, and I noticed the door was still locked, but the kitchen door was propped open. And there was a waiter kind of standing there, and he was facing away from me. I kind of felt like, “I don’t know if I should talk to him or not.” And so I didn’t. I just stood there, and kind of waited to see if he was gonna turn around. <br><br>But he didn’t. He just kind of stood there, with his back to me. And I was just standing there, kind of frozen in place. Finally, I was like, “fuck it.” And I left. I went back to the table, told my friends to leave, and we just left.<br><br>And I was like, “that was weird. Maybe the kitchen was on fire or something, and they didn’t want us to know.” But my friend was adamant that she was never getting her Tarte Tatin, and I should have insisted.<br><br>Fast forward to the next day, and I was back at work, just kind of going about my day. It was late afternoon, and I was working on some projects when a guy came up to my desk and introduced himself. I was like, “hi! Who are you?” And he was like, “my name is Pierre, and I work at that restaurant you were at last night.” I was like, “oh! Yeah! We had a really bad service last night.” And he was like, “yeah, sorry about that. I heard there was an issue with your friend’s dessert.”<br><br>I was like, “yeah, she was pissed! I tried to go into the kitchen to ask about it, but the door was locked.” And he was like, “oh, that’s weird.” Then he was like, “can you give me your phone number?” And I’m like, “what? Why? So you can apologize?” And he was like, “no, so I can come by and talk to you.”<br><br>I was like, “what the actual fuck?!?” But I gave him my phone number anyway, because I was so confused and I didn’t know what the hell to say. So he came by my place an hour later, and he was like, “sorry about last night, but we were short staffed and we’re in disarray.” I was like, “okay cool, that makes sense.” But then he was like, “but I saw you at the kitchen door last night.” <br><br>And I was like, “oh, yeah! I was just being nosey.” And he was like, “I know it’s weird, but I kind of got a creepy vibe from you.” And I was like, “what the fuck?!” And then he was like, “sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” But I just kind of laughed it off, because I didn’t know what else to say. He left, and I just kind of sat there like, “what the fuck just happened?”<br><br>I just kind of went about my day, and I didn’t think much of it. I just kind of wrote it off as some weird dude trying to hit on me. But then that night, I was out with my friends at the bar, and I was just kind of chillin’ and having a good time. <br><br>I was at the bar by myself for like 10 minutes, just kind of scanning the bar and watching people. And I saw this dude kind of walking around, and I was like, “oh, that’s Pierre!” And I kind of thought nothing of it. <br><br>But then he started making his way over to me, and he was smiling at me, and kind of waving. I was like, “oh shit. Is he coming over?!” But he didn’t come over. He just kind of stood there, like 5 feet away from me, just kind of watching me. And I was like, “what the fuck?” <br><br>And then I kind of looked around and told my friends, “is that Pierre?!” And they were like, “yeah! What the fuck is he doing here?!” And I was like, “I have no idea!” And they were like, “don’t talk to him! Don’t talk to him!” And I was like, “okay okay!” <br><br>And then Pierre just kind of stood there for another 10 minutes, just watching me. He didn’t come over, he didn’t talk to me, he just kind of watched me. And I was like, “okay this is really fucking creepy.” <br><br>So I just kind of watched him back, like, I’d glance over at him and then look away, kind of trying not to make eye contact. But he was persistent, just kind of standing there. And then he finally left, and I was like, “what the actual fuck was that?!?”<br><br>And my friends were like, “we don’t know! But you’re not going back to that restaurant again!” And I was like, “absolutely not! Never again!” And I just kind of went back to drinking and having a good time. But it was just kind of weird, and I didn’t know what to think of it. <br><br>And then I thought about it more, and I was like, “why did he come up to my desk? Why did he come to my house? Why was he at the bar last night?” And I was like, “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”<br><br>So I just kind of told all my friends what happened, and they were all like, “oh my god, that’s so creepy!” And I was like, “I know, right?!” So to all the dudes reading this, if you’re Pierre, let’s not meet again.<br><br>TLDR: went to a restaurant with my friends, waited 30 minutes for my friend’s dessert to come out. Went to ask the waiter, who was very brusque. Went to kitchen to ask, but door was locked. Went back to table and told friends to leave. The next day, the waiter came to my house and apologized. The next night, he came to the bar I was at and just kind of watched me. Creepy.