Her Bark Is As Bad As Her Bite

(I usually work in the drive-thru of our store.  At least once a day, often twice, a regular customer comes through. We all recognise her car.  She has a chihuahua that sits on her lap that snaps at us whenever we reach near the car.)

Coworker: “It’s her again. Please, will you hand out her coffee? I’m so scared of that dog!”

(I walk to the window and hold the regular’s food out, but far enough from her car that the dog can’t get close to me.)

Me: “Good morning!  Here’s your food, and I’ll just grab your coffee. ”

(I hold out the coffee, again further away from her car than normal. Suddenly, the dog lunges and almost bites my hand. I accidentally drop the coffee as I jump back, away from her and the dog.)

Customer: *to her dog* “My poor darling, my baby! Oh, are you okay? Did the mean lady scare you? Did she burn you with the hot coffee?” *to me* “If you burnt my dog, I’ll get your stupid a** fired!”

Me: “I’m very sorry. I’ll replace your coffee right away, but just a suggestion: perhaps this wouldn’t happen if you sat your dog in the passenger’s seat?”

Customer: “The nerve you have, thinking you know how to look after my precious little pumpkin! She’s MY dog, not yours! MUMMA KNOWS WHAT’S BEST!”

(I quickly grab the coffee, and hold it as far away from her and the dog as I can.)

Customer: *snatches her drink and drives off*

Coworker: *to me* “Sorry!”