Me: (working at Five Guys Burgers and Fries) “Hi, how are you today? What can I do for you?”
Lady: “Do you have fries here?”
Me: “Yes ma’am, what size would you like?”
Lady: (looks at bags clearly labeled “Idaho Potatos” behind her) “What’s in those bags?”
Me: “Those are potatoes for our fries, we cut them in-store”
Lady: “Are they for sale?”
Me: “No ma’am. We use them for our fries. We only sell them cooked.”
Lady: (proceeds to order a burger and drink)
Me: “Would you like any fries?”
Lady: “No thanks, I don’t like fries”
(I am twelve and have just begun to go through certain, ahem, physical changes. My mother takes me shopping for my new undergarments. While we are standing in line to pay, I notice a small girl and her mother out shopping. The girl is being a tremendous nuisance by running around yelling and knocking toys off the shelves. Everyone is afraid to say anything for fear of being seen as racist.)
Girl: Mommy, can I have one of those??
Customer: (on the phone) Sure, honey.
Girl: (grabs a polka-dot bra for, uh, bustier girls.)
Customer: (hangs up and storms out of the store)
(I’m standing in line at the cash, Guy 1 is in front of me in line, Guy 2 enters the store and gets in line behind me)
Guy 1: Hey, how are you doing?
Guy 2: Pretty good.
Guy 1: Staying out of trouble?
Guy 2: Yup.
Guy 1: Why?
Guy 2: Court order.