He Must Be Illiterate-ly Color Blind

(It’s my roommate’s birthday. I’m at the bakery section of a large supermarket, looking at small birthday cakes. I find one I like and decide to see if any of the bakery employees can custom-write ‘Happy Birthday’ on it. However, there is no one working at the counter. After about five minutes, I ask a cashier to page someone to the bakery counter. Another five minutes go by. Another employee bursts into the bakery department, slightly out of breath.)

Employee: “Sorry about the wait! I normally work in the seafood department, but I guess I can give bakery a shot. How hard can it be?”

Me: “…um… well, I’d like to get this birthday cake here. Could you write ‘Happy Birthday Roomie’ on it in green icing?”

Employee: “Can I write what?”

Me: “‘Happy Birthday Roomie.’ R-O-O-M-I-E. It’s short for ‘roommate.'”

Employee: “…um… and you wanted that in what color?”

Me: “Green, please.”

(The employee finds a tub of icing tubes and dumps it onto the counter. She roots around in it and pulls out a tube of blue icing.)

Employee: “This color?”

Me: “Not blue. I’d like green, please.”

Employee: *holds up white* “This color?”

Me: “GREEN.”

(The employee stares at the different colors of icing, completely at a loss. I point at a green tube lying on top of the pile, and we play hot-and-cold for a bit until she grabs the right one.)

Employee: “And what did you want it to say?”

Me: “‘Happy Birthday Roomie.'”

(I end up having to spell all three words multiple times. Ultimately, the employee gives up, grabs a plastic pick that reads ‘Happy Birthday,’ sticks it in the middle of the cake, and writes ‘ROOME,’ underneath.)