(A couple comes in and races up to the sandwich unit.)

Woman: “Hi, we only need one sandwich for our kid. I’m gonna make it quick, I promise. He wants a six inch white—”

Man: “No, he doesn’t. He wants flatbread.”

Woman: “No, he wants white!”

Man: “Flatbread!”

Woman: “Shut up, I know what he wants!”

Man: “No, you don’t! He won’t eat white bread!”

Woman: *sighs* “Is there any way I can get the sandwich on a flatbread, but put white bread on the side? I know I’m right, and he hates flatbreads.”

Me: “Yes, of course. It’s just costs a bit extra.”

Woman: “Okay, so turkey and cheddar cheese.”

Man: *shakes his head* “He likes American.”

Woman: “No, he doesn’t!”

Man: “Yes, he does!”

Woman: “Shut up! You’re confusing people!”

Me: “Would you like me to put some American on the side?”

Woman: “No! He HATES American, so there’s no point. Besides, he wants it toasted.”

Man: “Finally! Something right!”

Woman: “Right, so toasted with olives and mustard, and that’s it.”

Man: “He wants lettuce, too.”

Woman: “Fine, s***! Put lettuce on there and when he won’t eat it. Whatever!”

Me: “…Anything else?”

Woman: “No. HE’S probably confusing you already.”

Man: “YOU’RE the confusing one.”

(I ring them up and they calm down as they get ready to leave.)

Woman: “Thanks, sorry about that. We didn’t mean to confuse you!”