In High Spirits, Low In Intelligence

I was serving a table of five middle-aged men and women. They looked respectable and seemed sober.

Me: “What would you like to drink, ma’am?”

Customer: “Tequila soda with lime, please.”

Me: “What kind of tequila do you prefer?”

Customer: *With an attitude.* “I asked for vodka, not tequila.”

Surprisingly, no one at the table backed me up; they just sat there silently.

Me: “My apologies, what kind of vodka do you prefer?”

Customer: “Tanqueray.”

I couldn’t tell at that point if she was messing with me or not, but no one was laughing, and it was so satisfying to tell her:

Me: “Tanqueray is not vodka, it’s gin.”