Giving You A (Prison) Break

Customer #1: “Thank God, this line is taking forever.”

(There is no line at all, although the tables are mostly occupied.)

Me: “Sorry about the wait, sir. May I take your order?”

(The customer proceeds to rattle off a long, confusing, and often contradictory order, including such things as a meatless ham sandwich.)

Me: “Sir, I’m a little confused by your order. Do you mean—”

Customer #1: “—oh, for God’s sake, I have to repeat myself now? Weren’t you paying attention the first time?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t want to get anything wrong. You made a big order, and—”

Customer #1: *sighs* “I’ll repeat myself, but just this once. I hate dealing with lazy ignorant dropouts like you.”

(He repeats his order, but I understand it even less because I am trying not to cry. He finishes speaking and snaps his fingers at me.)

Customer #1: “Hello?! Punch it in, you dumb b****. I haven’t got all day, and—”

(Suddenly one of the other customers; a strongly-built man who has been quietly sitting at a nearby table, roars and leaps to his feet, flipping the table and spilling his coffee in the process.)

Customer #2: “GOD-D*** IT! ONE DAY OUT OF PRISON, AND ALREADY I HAVE TO MURDER AN IDIOT IN A COFFEE STORE!”

(The rude customer shrieks and flees from the store. I and the remaining customers stare at the man, who quietly picks up the table and comes over to the counter.)

Customer #2: “I’ll pay for any damage. If you could show me where the mops are, I’ll take care of the mess, too.”

Me: “I-I-I, um…”

Customer #2: “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. There’s always gonna be an a** like that around.”

Me: “Uh, you, um…”

Customer #2: “Oh, the prison thing?” *laughs* “Never been in jail in my life. So, anyway, where’s that mop?”