Unfiltered Story #184515

(We’re getting to the end of the lunch rush, and a young man has been waiting in line for several minutes. I’ve noticed him, because he can’t seem to keep still; he’s always moving from the back of the line to the window, and glancing over his shoulder like he’s being watched. Finally, he gets to my counter.)
Me: Hi, how can I serve you today?
Man: Can you give me a knife to kill myself?
Me: (nervous laugh) Ummm…no…but I can get you some food. What would you like?
Man: (glances at the menu for the first time) Fine. Strawberry milkshake.
Me: Okay, what size would you like?
Man: *mumble, mumble* …kill myself.
Me: I’m sorry, what was that?
(We repeat this several times. He doesn’t seem to be aware of my existence. Finally I just ring him up a small milkshake.)
Me: That’ll be [price].
Man: *hands over a credit card and continues mumbling, while glancing nervously out the window*
Me: I’ll have that shake right out for you.
(When I bring the milkshake out a few minutes later, the man is nowhere to be found. In the two long years I worked in fast food, that was the most unsettling experience I ever had.)