Can’t Stress This Enough

I work at a bistro. Today, I am working alone. I have to prepare salad and rice for lunch, make sandwiches and cereal bowls, clean the tables, and serve customers simultaneously. There are a lot of customers, so I struggle to juggle everything at once.

A regular wants something from the antipasti bar. I fill her plate, but she wants more and more, even though the plate is full. I probably look a bit annoyed, so she asks me:

Customer: “Are you in a bad mood?”

Me: “No, I’m just stressed.”

Customer: “And you’re serving me this stressed?!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “What am I supposed to do with this? Eat it and become stressed?”

Me: “W—”

Customer: “What are you even stressed about? There are barely any people here!”

Me: “…?”

Customer: “I don’t even know if I want this now that I know that you’re serving me this stressed!”

A colleague from the adjacent grocery store came over and asked what was wrong. The customer ranted that I was stressed and I was serving her stressed and now she couldn’t eat what I served her. She demanded that my colleague prepare her the same plate but in a calm way.

The customer next in line didn’t say anything, but she gave me a huge tip out of pity.