Caught You In A Jam

(I work in a store that has four floors. I work in the basement taking deliveries so I have very little knowledge of the supermarket itself save for which floor things go to. Occasionally I have to cross the shop floor to deliver said stock. Here I’m on the lowest floor, just returning to my post, when a middle-aged chap in a well-tailored business suit bursts in off the street:)

Customer: *upon seeing my uniform* “Hey, you there, where is your jam?”

Me: *just wanting to get back to my job* “I’m very sorry, sir. I’m afraid I’m not trained as floor staff so I don’t know how to help you, but I’m sure if…”

Customer: “I NEED jam!”

Me: *trying to stay polite* “I’m sorry, sir, I honestly don’t know where the jam is; I work behind the scenes here with stock delivery you see.” *I spot a floor worker* “However…”

Customer: *hasn’t listened to a word* “I NEED JAM NOW! I’m a VERY busy man and I don’t have time to be messed around by stupid, lazy, little people like you. NOW DO YOUR BLOODY JOB AND GET ME JAM!”

(He’s flaring his nostrils, shaking, and getting really quite scary eyed by now, a full on temper tantrum, basically, so I decide to have a go at pretending I’m floor staff.)

Me: “All right, then, let’s see…” *I look up and Lady Luck shines on me* “…ah, I would take a guess it’s probably somewhere near that big 6×4 foot hanging sign just behind you that says ‘Jams’?”

(The customer follows my gaze and sees said sign.)

Customer: *angry sarcasm* “THERE! You see, that wasn’t SO hard for you to do, now WAS it?!” *stomps off in the direction of the sign*

Me: *under breath* “So easy even you might have been able to do it, sir.”

(How urgent a need for jam can anybody possibly have, anyway?)