Double Of You Is Still Less Than Half Of What I Am

I’m working the register when a couple comes up wanting to split a purchase on one item. No big deal, it can be a bit of a headache, but it’s doable.

Me: “Alright, your total comes to $18.45. What would half of that be, so I can split it?”

The guy immediately sneers.

Customer: “You don’t know what half of $18.45 is?”

I bite my tongue, ignore him, punch the split amount in manually, and finish the transaction. No harm done. 

I’m terrible at math, I always have been. Little moments like that are why I was scared of retail jobs for ages. Thankfully, most customers are understanding. This guy? Not so much.

Anyway, I clock out for lunch and head toward a fast-food place nearby. As I’m walking out the door, I hear his voice again.

Customer: *To his partner, loudly.*  “What kind of f****** r****d doesn’t know what half of $18.45 is?”

I stop dead in my tracks, spin around, and let him have it.

Me: “What kind of broke-a** clown has to divide $18.45 in half on a card? I might be bad at math, but you’re clearly horrible with personal finances. Go f*** yourself with a used plunger.”

He gapes. His partner drags him off before he can respond. I keep walking to lunch with the biggest grin on my face.