Waiter's dream customer

No matter how bad the food is at a restaurant, I will seldom if ever complain about it. When the waiter comes by and asks how everything is, it's a pretty standard practice for me to say "fine" even if octopus tentacles were slithering through my mashed potatoes. I guess I have a kind of hidden phobia with these food servers. I don't want them to get upset with me and retaliate by spitting into my soup or holding my biscuit under their arm. It's kind of a strange relationship where the servant is actually the master.