Not Quite The (Ice) Cream Of The Crop

(I work in a very popular chocolate shop that also sells ice cream in the summer. It is a particularly busy, hot Saturday. I am serving ice cream. There was a huge line of customers. Suddenly, a customer strolls into the store, leaving her bicycle outside. Eventually, it is her turn.)

Customer: “Finally. I’ll have a hazelnut.”

Me: “Sure, a double or a single?”

Customer: “Double.”

Me: “Would you like it in a cone or a tub?”

Customer: “A bag.”

Me: “…Pardon?”

Customer: “A bag.”

(I look at her for a moment)

Me: “I’m sorry, Miss, but the ice cream only comes in a cone or a tub.”

Customer: “Well, I need it in a bag. Do you have a bag?”

(We put chocolate in small transparent bags, but they would definitely not fit an ice cream tub, also there are no lids on the tubs to cover the ice cream.)

Me: “It won’t fit in one of our bags, miss.”

Customer: “Yes, it will. Get one.”

(I protest again, but fetch her bag anyway. I present it to her and show her the size, to prove it won’t fit.)

Me: “See, Miss? It’s too small. The tub won’t fit in there.”

Customer: “Oh, honestly, how do you even have a job? Do you even have a brain?”

(I’m hurt by this comment, and am getting quite angry.)

Me: “Look, it won’t fit; I don’t know what you’d like me to do.”

Customer: “Let me do it, girl.”

(She proceeds to take the full-to-the-brim ice cream tub and squeeze it into the bag sideways, smearing her ice cream all down the sides. I stare at her in disbelief. Ice cream is dripping everywhere.)

Customer: “Was that so hard?”

Me: *still staring* “Would… you like a spoon?”

(She held out the open bag and I dropped in a small plastic spoon with the already nearly melted ice cream. She paid and left. I watched her outside the window as she put her bag of squished ice cream into the child-seat of her bicycle, STRAPPED UP THE SEAT BELT, and cycled away down the road. I stared in disbelief for the rest of the day.)