Southern Discomfort

(I am giving out samples of hot sauce with tuna salad. An old man with a long grey beard and a thick Southern accent comes up to my table…)

Me: “Hello, sir, would you like to try some tuna salad with hot sauce?”

Customer: “Maybe. Can I see the hot sauce bottle?”

Me: *thinking he wanted to see the ingredients* “All right, sure.” *I hand him the bottle*

Customer: *carefully shakes the bottle, then tips it upside down to see how much is left*

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: “Good girl, you’ve used a lot of it.”

Me: “Well, I’ve been serving it to a lot of people.”

Customer: “Yee-hee!”

(The man unscrews the bottle, then tilts his head back and starts shaking hot sauce into his mouth.)

Me: “Sir! Sir, I have to ask for that back now!”

Customer: “Hee-hee. You can’t say you’re Cajun unless you can do that. You need one of those little bottles. I can chug them. Can’t call yourself Southern otherwise. Yee-hee!”

(The man handed back the bottle and walked off. I sanitized the bottle as thoroughly as possible!)