Making Sure You’re Not Telling Porkies

(I am working in a roadside restaurant and am fairly new to the job. One slow morning there is just the boss, a coworker, and me on duty. The coworker, who is cooking, goes on his break, and since I can not yet cook the boss takes over cooking the breakfasts while I take orders and serve drinks. I go up to a couple at a table.)

Me: “Hello, what can I get for you?”

Man: *in a Scottish accent* “Two coffees. And two pork steaks on toast, please.”

Me: “Er… right.”

(At the cook’s area I write down the order.)

Boss: *astonished* “Two pork steaks on toast?”

Me: “Yes, that’s what they want.”

Boss: “But are you sure?”

Me: “Yes, I’m sure. That’s what he asked for.”

(She asked me several more times if I was absolutely sure, which I was. So she put two pork steaks into the fryer, later a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, and ten minutes later I was taking the order out to the table. My boss watched me. Her face as she saw the altercation at the table, followed by the sight of me returning with the two plates, was a picture.)

Boss: “I asked if you were sure. You said you were. What did they really want?”

Me: “I misheard. It was the Scottish accent. They want two poached eggs on toast.”