(I work at the meat/seafood counter of my store. I greet my first customer of the day.)

Me: “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes, I’d like a six lb. rib roast, please.”

Me: “Certainly. Let me go and pass your order on to the butcher.”

(I go back into the cutting room. The butcher says it will take about ten minutes because of the other order he has to fill first. I go back to the counter.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, he can have your order ready in ten minutes. If you want, you can do some more shopping and come back later. We’ll set your order up here on the counter when it’s ready for you.”

Customer: “Are you being a smart-a**?!”

Me: “Um… excuse me?”

Customer: “Are. You. Being. A. Smart-a**!?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what the problem is.”

Customer: *in a mocking tone* “Oh, look at me! I’m Mr. Big Shot Meat Guy! I’ll put your order right up here on the counter! Right here, all nice and neat, because I’m Mr. Big Shot Meat Guy!”

Me: “Uh… that’s just what we do, ma’am. If someone places an order we set it on the counter for them to come and pick up when it’s ready.”

(She gives me the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen, and stomps away.)

Co-worker: “Welcome to work, Mr. Big Shot Meat Guy!”