I NEVER SAID I WAS ALLERGIC TO PEANUTS!

MGM Grand is just a neat hotel. They have lions in the hotel. They're behind an enclosure, but it is just a cool thing to see lions in a hotel. That being said, I'd like to feed one of the employees at a sandwich shop called 'wichcraft TO THOSE LIONS.
On our first full day out and about in Vegas, we met up with a friend who wanted to go to MGM. He wanted us to eat lunch at Seablue, a restaurant in the MGM Grand of much acclaim. As is our luck on vacation, it was closed. Next door was this nice little sandwich place, and as he wanted to use his MGM dollars to treat us to lunch, we went there.
I'd like to pause at this point in the story and tell you that the following was entirely my fault. I screwed up, badly. However, the manner in which it was handled by those in the customer service industry? Abominable.
We ordered sandwiches, and I ordered a good old pb&j, figuring that was the safest thing on the menu (who knows what spices are on the outside of the roasted turkey? And really, meatloaf and bacon? why not just charter me a private shuttle to the hospital?). As they're ringing up, I very quietly say to NAH "I've got nothing to worry about, right? I mean, how can they screw up peanut butter so I can't eat it." He VERY intelligently replies, "Really? It's not worth just asking to make sure?"
So I asked. After the fact, and against all the advice I usually offer on this site. I was tired, I was jet lagged, and I was hungry. None of which is an excuse for letting my allergy alert down. Again, this was my fault.
The response to my question of our cashier blew my mind.
Me: "This is just regular peanut butter, right? Nothing fancy?"
Now, at this point our friend makes me feel like some sort of social leper and states emphatically, "BECAUSE IF IT ISN'T, SHE'LL DIE." (I understand the point he was trying to make, but that's not how I handle things.)
Cashier: "Oh, this peanut butter is heavenly, we roast our own peanuts and mix in a ton of whipped butter. It's fabulous."
Me: "Ok, I'm sorry, I can't eat the butter, and I know I should've asked that question ahead of time, I'm going to need to change my order. I'm REALLY sorry (and I was. I also wanted to crawl into a hole and die because at this point everyone in the place, though it was small, was staring at us)."
Here's where it gets handled badly.
Our friend's comp had already been put through. So now we had to get a manager on the phone to reverse the comp and input the order again. As I'm apologizing profusely, the woman next to the cashier very snidely says to her, making sure that I'm in earshot, "Why the f$@* would someone order a peanut butter sandwich that's allergic to peanuts? What kind of f-ing sense does that make?"
Now, our cashier looked at me apologetically, and seemed kind of embarrassed over her coworker's snit. She got the manager on the phone, reversed the comp, and I asked for a completely plain roasted turkey sandwich. Imagine my surprise when her coworker, a minute after my order, serves me a turkey sandwich with roasted peppers and a ton of seasoning. This time, I said, "I'm sorry, but I asked for this plain."

Her: "Plain? As in you want nothing on it?"
Me: "Plain. Just turkey and bread."
Her: "Really? Do you even care if it's heated? (and then yelling) HOT OR COLD?"
Me: "Cold is fine" (Because at this point, I wanted the earth to swallow me up).

So I ate a cold turkey sandwich, after cutting the ends of the turkey (which were heavily seasoned) off. It was not good. And as I said at the beginning, this is all my fault. But it was handled VERY badly.