Cheese Is Beautiful As It Comes In All Colors

(It was my first week working in the deli of a local grocery store. Things were going fine with no retail horror story occurrences, until the day I met the man I call the Cheese Nazi.)

Customer: “I want a pound of American cheese, sliced thin.”

Me: “Sure thing! Do you want that white or yellow?”

Customer: *looking at me with disgust* “The only color an American SHOULD be… WHITE!”

Me: “Ohh… kay. White it is.”

(I slice his racially pure cheese, weigh it, and bag it.)

Customer: “A half-pound of the mustard potato salad, too.”

Me: “Sure thing. I can’t do anything about the color of this one, though.”

Customer: *grunts* “Whatever.”

(I dish up his potato salad, weigh it, label it, and almost put the lid on when he stops me.)

Customer: “Stop!”

(He picks out a larger chunk of potato that still had a bit of the dark brown peel on one side, and flicks it at me, bouncing it off my neck.)

Customer: “That one was the n*****.”