Buffalo Wild Wings — Restaurant in Bossier City

To the Caucasian female presenting person with (I think) blond hair who clocked out at the to-go counter at approximately 9:20pm on 5/17/25 at the Airline Dr location in Bossier City, LA…

SHAME ON YOU!!

Why do you have a job in customer service and have zero awareness of what that actually means? Never have I ever PAID to be disrespected the way I was tonight.

When I approached the counter nobody was there, so I waited. I turned around and looked for someone and locked eyes with you. You walked right past me with a couple trailing behind you that you escorted to the booth DIRECTLY next to the to-go register. As you left their table you still didn’t acknowledge me so I continued to wait for assistance for someone other than you - I brushed it off. If I had any doubt that I was invisible to you, your next actions solidified that.

I’m assuming it was time for you to clock out because you approached the register, typed on the screen and made sure not to lift your eyes as I stared at you the entire time. You then turned to get your food out of the warmer and spoke over me to your boyfriend or whoever he was that was seated at the table behind me to complain about how hard it was raining outside. At this point it was VERY clear: -making eye contact costs you too much -acknowledging my presence costs you too much -sharing that someone else would be with me shortly costs you too much -grabbing my food that I had already paid for that was right next to yours in the warmer costs you too much -doing your job costs you too much -having a basic level of respect for human beings costs you too much

After all that, the icing on the cake was you didn’t even leave LOL you sat there playing kissy face in the restaurant. I shared my complaint with the lady who actually assisted me instead of getting belligerent with you. To no surprise to me she agreed the service I received was poor but she didn’t seem too surprised that he happened. This tells me that this has probably happened before. But what do I know?

I know I’ve lived long enough to know when to call a spade a spade as a black women and you my dear have so much to learn in this thing called life. As you are employed by someone else I pray you quickly learn from the many errors you made tonight. Customers spend their money for a good experience for the product or service they’re purchasing. When one of those things isn’t so, money stops coming in and you my dear no longer have a job anymore. Good luck! With the “skills” you currently have you’ll need more than that to stay employed by somebody else. You don’t have to worry about me spending a dime at this...

Let’s not sugarcoat this — what I experienced at Buffalo Wild Wings was nothing short of divine intervention. The wings were hot, the drinks were cold, and the entire night was carried on the shoulders of a single, extraordinary woman: PANSY, the manager, the maestro, the monarch of unmatched service.

She wasn’t just managing a restaurant — she was commanding a kingdom.

From the very first second, it was obvious: this wasn’t your average managerial walk-through. No. Pansy moved with the grace of royalty and the precision of a NASA launch director. Staff followed her lead like elite dancers in a Broadway production. Customers? Absolutely spellbound.

But what truly cemented her into the Hospitality Hall of Fame was how she handled a minor issue at the table next to us. Cool as ice, quick as lightning, and smoother than jazz — Pansy resolved the entire situation with the finesse of Beyoncé executing a flawless dance routine in heels… during a hurricane. I swear the people at that table stood up and applauded. I nearly joined them.

And just when I thought I couldn’t possibly admire her more — boom — she shows up at our table with a bunch of brightly colored, ribbon-twirling balloons for the kids. Not asked for, not expected, just delivered from the heavens with a smile that could solve world hunger. The kids' eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. One of them gasped, “She’s a balloon wizard!” And honestly, I don’t even know how to argue with that.

She personally checked on every table like each guest was family. She made eye contact that said, “You matter.” She made wings arrive faster. She made the entire restaurant better, just by being in it.

Let’s be honest: if Pansy managed the airlines, flights would never be late. If she ran the DMV, people would hug in line. If she took over the world, we’d all be happily living in a chicken-wing utopia with balloon animals and bottomless ranch.

Rename the restaurant. Reprint the menus. This is no longer just Buffalo Wild Wings — it is Pansy’s Temple of Flavor and Grace.

To Pansy: The legend. The leader. The Beyoncé of Buffalo Wild Wings. May your reign be long and full of perfectly...

I don’t even know where to begin because words barely suffice to capture the transcendental experience RALPH provided at Buffalo Wild Wings. If Michelin stars were given for waitstaff, Ralph would have three galaxies worth.

From the moment we walked in, it was as if the heavens parted and a divine beam of light followed Ralph as he approached our table—each step he took was like thunder, each word he spoke was like honey mixed with wisdom passed down from ancient civilizations. This man didn’t just hand us menus… HE DELIVERED SERVICE WITH THE GRACE OF AN OLYMPIAN GOD DESCENDING MT. OLYMPUS.

Our drinks? Arrived before we even knew we were thirsty. Ralph predicted our orders with such uncanny accuracy, I’m convinced he’s either a mind-reader or has dined with the Oracle of Delphi. He didn’t just bring napkins—he FLOATED them to the table like a velvet breeze, gently tucking them beside each plate with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker.

When our food arrived (faster than the speed of sound), Ralph presented each plate like sacred offerings. Each one glistened as if kissed by sunlight and cooked to perfection by angels moonlighting as kitchen staff. And when my 4 year old spilled ranch on herself? RALPH appeared out of nowhere with a napkin and said, “I anticipated this.” HOW? HOW, RALPH?!

He refilled drinks mid-sip. He brought extra wet wipes before we even asked. He complimented my dad jokes. HE. DESERVES. A. STATUE. RIGHT. OUTSIDE. THE. RESTAURANT.

Ralph didn’t just serve food—he delivered an EXPERIENCE SO LIFE-CHANGING that I left Buffalo Wild Wings questioning every other restaurant I’ve ever been to. I wanted to stand up and chant his name with the whole dining room. I wanted to name my third child Ralph. I still might.

If you go to Buffalo Wild Wings and Ralph isn’t your bartender, I’m sorry. You didn’t really go. Ralph is the human embodiment of what service should be. A legend. A warrior. A...