Bull-Only Sandwich

(I’m a cashier at a fairly small sandwich shop in my city. I’m on duty at the same time as one of my coworkers, who is also my friend. She stands 5’9″ and is very slim with pink hair. She looks like a doll. A rather large guy comes in; he wants a sandwich with an obscene number of exotic and special items.)

Customer: “I want a large pumpernickel sandwich, with black forest ham, avocado, shrimp, caramelized onions, pine nuts, basil, honey-glazed salmon and dragon fruit. And I want it now, so get a move on!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, that sounds delicious, but I’m afraid we only do quite basic sandwiches here. You’d need somewhere special for that order.”

Customer: “F*** that! I need to be back at work soon and I want my d*** sandwich! Call yourself a business, denying me my food like that! I’m reporting you unless you serve me right now! Now make me my sandwich!”

Coworker: “Okay, I get that you’re angry about this, but I really can’t do anything about this. The only parts of that order we could do are the onions and the shrimp. Apart from that, we just don’t stock the ingredients. Now, either please order something else or leave. You’re holding up everyone else.”

Customer: “I don’t believe this. Make me my food right now or I’m coming back there to kick your a** till you do as I said!”

(My coworker is now quite annoyed, as it’s been a long day.)

Coworker: “Number one, threats aren’t going to help you. I can’t make it because we don’t have the ingredients, not because I don’t want to. Number two, if you come back here it’s not going to end well, do you understand me?”

Customer: “If I come back there you can’t do a d*** thing to stop me! I know my rights and I want my food!”

Coworker: “Please don’t come back here. If you get violent, it will be unpleasant for you.”

Customer: “What, you think you can do anything to me? You think you can kick my a**, barbie? Nobody believes that.”

(I’ve been eavesdropping from further down the counter. I’m a pretty big guy, 6’4”, and I’m in good shape. I see this as my cue to lean over.)

Me: “I believe her.”

Customer: “Oh yeah? And who the f*** are you? Another a**hole who’s going to refuse me my food?”

Me: “I was thinking more a black sash in Lethwei, a competitor in both Eskrima and Sambo, and if you’re familiar with the local circuit I’m the latest MMA champion. And yes, I’m refusing your food.”

Customer: “I wasn’t talking to you though, was I? I was talking to her.”

Me: “I know. In fact, please do come back here and try to fight her. I need a laugh.”

(Upon my saying this, the customer looks surprised and confused.)

Me: “See, what I probably should have mentioned is she’s the one who helps me train for all that stuff I mentioned. She wins about half the time. Please try and fight her? Youtube needs a new hit.”

(The customer blusters a bit more before backing down and huffing his way out of the shop, still threatening. I wasn’t lying: she would have wiped the floor with him!)