No ID-ea Who Is Hiding Under There

(A coworker and I are working under our walk-up counter; we’re running cables for a new computer station. I overhear a customer talking to the tiny freshman girl working above us at the counter.)

Customer: “I’m here to pick up my laptop.”

Female Coworker: “Okay, it looks like it’s all paid up. I just need to see your ID.”

Customer: “What? Why?”

Female Coworker: “I just need to verify it’s your computer.”

Customer: “Well I don’t have my ID. Just give it to me.”

Female Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t—”

(There are the sounds of quick struggle. She steps back holding the laptop.)

Female Coworker: “Sir, you can’t take the laptop without ID! Now you need to leave or I will have to have you escorted out.”

(I pop up to see what’s going on. The customer looks at me and laughs.)

Customer: “Him? This little b**** is going to escort me out? I’d love to see that!”

Me: “She didn’t mean me…”

(My other co-worker, who was still under the desk, grabs the edge of the counter and hauls his 300lb. self up to his full imposing 6’6″ height.)

Me: “…she meant him.”

(The customer’s face goes pale.)

Customer: “Uh… um… so, I can just come back with my ID and pick that up, then?”

Giant Coworker: “Yes, sir. Feel free to ask for me if you have any more problems.”

Customer: “No! Er, I mean, no; I can’t imagine there’d be any more problems.”

(We now joke that we should keep our giant under the desk for all such issues.)