Getting All Hot (Salsa) And Bothered

(We have three different kinds of salsa, which are named based on their spiciness: mild, medium, and hot. Customers choose their salsa, and employees put it on. I always point to each one as I say their names when asking customers which ones they want. It is a very slow night; I am the only one working on the food line, and the only manager is in the back. This customer is the first one I’ve seen in ten minutes or so.)

Me: “All right, would you like mild, medium, or hot salsa?”

Customer: *points to the mild salsa* “Hot.”

Me: *I figure it’s more likely that he misspoke than that he mis-pointed. I grab the spoon for the mild salsa and keep my eye on the customer’s face* “This one?”

Customer: “Is that the hot?”

Me: *I move my hand over to the spoon for the hot salsa* “Sorry, that was the mild. This one’s the hot.”

Customer: “Mild?”

Me: *I point to the mild* “This one here?”

Customer: “Is that the hot?”

Me: “No, that is the mild.” *I point to the hot* “This is the hot. Did you want the hot salsa?”

Customer: “No, not that one.”

Me: *I point to the mild* “So, the mild?”

Customer: “NOT MILD!”

Me: “Okay, um…” *I point to the medium* “Medium?”

Customer: *clearly getting irate* “HOT! SALSA!”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

(I grab the ladle of hot salsa, and start to bring it to the customer’s food.)

Customer: “NO!” *he points to the mild salsa* “I want HOT SALSA! HOT! SALSA!”

(He’s already yelling because I tried to clarify. He still doesn’t know which salsa is which. Either he gets mad at me now because I explain it, or he gets mad later because his food isn’t spicy, and then gets mad again the next time an employee tries to clarify what he wants. I decide to bite the bullet. I plaster on my cheerful customer service face. My eyes probably glaze over. I am no longer present.)

Me: “Yes, sir! I’m very sorry; I just want to make sure that I get you exactly what you want. It looks like you’re pointing to this one.” *points to mild* “Is that right?”

Customer: “YES! HOT SALSA!”

Me: “I’d be happy to give you some of this, but I’d hate it if you sat down with the food and were disappointed because you expected it to be hot. This one is mild. It has no spiciness whatsoever. Is that okay?”

Customer: “WHY IS THIS SO HARD FOR YOU? I DON’T WANT IT TO BE MILD. I WANT HOT SALSA. THAT MEANS SPICY! JUST… AUGH! CAN SOMEONE ELSE DO THIS? SOMEONE SMARTER THAN YOU?”

Me: “Sure! Just a moment, sir.”

(I go in the back to talk to the manager.)

Me: “Sir, there’s a gentleman up front who would like some help with his salsa choices this evening.”

Manager: “Oh, god, you’ve gone robot again. It’s that bad?”

Me: “He says he’d like someone smarter than me to do it.”

Manager: “Oh, boy.”

(The manager goes up front. I stay in the office and watch on the security monitors as the manager listens to the customer, and reaches for the hot salsa. I see the customer gesturing wildly, and hear some yelling from all the way up front. Then the customer storms out without his food. I walk up front, and pass the manager on his way back. He’s holding back laughter.)

Manager: “Good news! He says he’s never coming here again!”