Hair Abhorrent, Part 2

(My husband and I are grabbing a quick lunch at a local cafe. I unwrap my sandwich and find a bunch of long, black hairs sticking out. I go and see about getting a new sandwich made.)

Cashier: “Welcome to [cafe name]. What can I get you?”

Me: “Actually, I just ordered a sandwich less than five minutes ago and I found a bunch of hairs in my sandwich.”

(I show the cashier the sandwich, hair and all.)

Cashier: “Ma’am, it’s only your hair. The sandwich is still good; just take them off and you’ll be fine.”

Me: “Um… no. First off, the hair on the sandwich is not mine. If you look, you’ll see that my hair is neither long nor black. Secondly, I am not fine with it. I find it rather nasty that someone else’s hair is on my food, so I would appreciate it if you would remake it. If that is going to be too much trouble, then I just want a refund for the sandwich.”

Cashier: “Lady, chill out. It’s only hair. You’re acting as if it is contaminated or something. I promise you that we’re all clean here, so there aren’t any germs on your sandwich.”

(At this point, I’m seriously pissed off and about to demand a manager when one comes up and taps the cashier on the shoulder.)

Manager: *to cashier* “Seriously?! My office, right now. Not at the end of your shift, not in ten minutes… now. Get up there and wait for me.” *to me* “Ma’am, I am so sorry about that. Of course we’ll remake that for you. What did you have again?”

(The manager personally remade my food and I walked away with a free, freshly-baked cookie as well.)