Maybe It Was A Protein Shake?

I work as a server at a diner. A family of five — four adults and one kid — comes in to have breakfast. I greet them as I would any other customer and get the drink order: one orange juice, two coffees, a tea, and a chocolate milk. I leave and then come back, but I realize I made a mistake: all of the drinks are in regular glasses and I don’t know which one is the kid’s drink. Before I can ask, the dad gets annoyed.

Customer: “Is that the kid’s size?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry; I forgot to ask which drink you wanted in the kid’s cup.”

Customer: “Well, obviously, it’s the chocolate milk! What kind of man-child would drink chocolate milk?!”

I say nothing but step to the side to glance at the table right behind me. An elderly couple and their adult son, who is six feet tall and built like a truck with muscles the size of my head, are all staring at the fuss this guy is making. In front of each of them is a glass of chocolate milk. He notices them looking, they notice him looking, and they all look at me.

Me: “I’m not allowed to comment on that, sir. Would you like me to get this in a kid’s cup?”

Customer: *Quieter* “Yes, please.”