Where's my farking custard?

You know if you were going out for a special landmark birthday and there was a deal breaker item that  was absolutely non negotiable in terms of your enjoyment of the evening,something equatable to your last supper on death row? You'd kind of do everything in your power to make sure that the place you booked up for said meal actually had this item on the menu or at worst were prepared to get it in for you...wouldn't you?
Perhaps a dozen oysters accompanied by a glass of vintage 1976 Pol Roger might be your thing?Or maybe a Kobe beef fillet accompanied by a lovely Chateauneuf du Pape,or some Foie Gras and truffles and a glass of decent Burgundy or even a Salad Nicoise with a chilled glass of Provence Rose..
Or perhaps some CUSTARD.

Yes,you heard me.
CUSTARD.
This morning I was merrily going about my daily chores when I fielded a very irate call.The lady caller had dined with us the previous night.It was a birthday celebration,a bit of a landmark date,though as you know Im far too discreet to give away a lady's age.They were a bit of an unlikely group all fairly imposing characters wearing vertiginous heels, pelmet skirts and make up applied with a shotgun. There was only one man in the group,quite an affable chap though disconcertingly it had been duly noted wearing serial killer's shoes.Anyway,things were going swimmingly,until the pudding order was taken and the birthday girl expressed a desire for some custard with her chocolate cake.Sadly there was no custard on the menu and with checks aplenty on the board in the kitchen there was no chance of any off menu orders going in there on this particular occasion.
There was an unusual response to the rebuttal of the attempted custard order:
'Way cant yus gan doon to Tescos like and get us some Ambrosia?Thats what 'Spoons did last time wis went out for dinner??"
We nervously laughed off this suggestion as a joke at the time,and the lady begrudgingly settled for some of the on menu chocolate sauce,so all was well.
Or so we had thought.
Until todays phone call.
It seems she was bitterly disappointed, her barely contained anger audible over the phone line in her shaking tones.The upshot of the conversation being the lack of a custard sauce had 'ruined' her birthday but she hadn't wanted to make a fuss on the evening due to there being 15 other guests and it would have been embarrassing for them.I had my ear chewed for at least 15 minutes regarding the egg drought..
Apologising for our failure on the custard front,I took care to point out that items not on the menu are not normally available unless specifically requested in advance.Finally,against my better judgement and with one eye on the clock ticking ever onwards towards midday, in desperation I invited her back for a gratis lunch.
The anger miraculously tamed,the call was swiftly brought to a close.
The Cynical One was not amused.
'you are joking,tell me you didn't invite her back..'
'Yes I couldn't get her off the phone,the conversation wasn't going anywhere so I thought it easier just to comp her a lunch..'
The Cynical One wandered off to enjoy an interval of much disgusted head shaking and tutting.

Chef too was equally unimpressed,respectfully requesting that any future such complaint be dealt with in the following manner:

'F*ck off..'

CLICK.


The only comforting thought in all of this is that the inevitable Trip advisor drubbing is going to make pretty amusing reading.
*wrings hands in anticipation*