Fickle Pickle Love

(I’m at a restaurant where your burrito is custom-assembled as you move down the line. It’s the lunch rush, and the line is all the way to the door, but the employees are moving quickly. The three customers ahead of me have placed long, rambling orders with various special requests and asking for items to be added after they’ve already passed the station with those ingredients.)

Employee: *speaking quickly* “Hi, how are ya? What can I get for you?”

Me: “Hi! Burrito. Brown rice. Pinto beans. Chicken.” *big smile*

Employee: *stops everything and slaps the counter with both hands* “I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Do you know how much I love you? Burrito, brown rice, pinto beans, chicken. Oh man, I love you!”

Me: “Haha, thanks!”

(My burrito is now finished and I hand a printed e-gift certificate to the cashier.)

Cashier: “Whaaaaat?! You printed it?! Oh man, I love you, too! I love you, I love you!”

(The cashier has trouble scanning the barcode.)

Cashier: *jokingly* “Wait a minute. Nope. No, I don’t love you anymore. Sorry. I just don’t!”