Customer: “I also want a pound of Swiss cheese, but I don’t want it sliced.”

Me: “So you’d just like a one-pound block of cheese?”

Customer: “Exactly. Can you do that?”

Me: “I sure can.”

(I take the cheese over to the sandwich station to get a large knife, measure approximately where I think one pound would be, and cut off a block. I put it on the scale, and much to my satisfaction, the weight of the block I cut is 1.005 pounds.)

Me: “Well hey, that was pretty good!”

(The customer looks at the scales.)

Customer: “Oh, my God! How did you do that?!”

Me: “Lots of practice?”

Customer: “No, no, that wouldn’t do it. You must have some kind of supernatural cheese power!”

Me: “Well, I was born on a dying cheese planet, and sent to Earth in a cheese rocket by my parents. Exposure to Earth’s yellow sun gives me cheese powers.”

Customer: “Whoa. Honey, come here! You’ve got to see this!”

(The customer’s wife comes over and listens to the story.)

Customer’s Wife: “Holy s***. Can you do that again?”

(I look over at my manager, who rolls her eyes and gives me a ‘go ahead’ wave. I cut another block off the Swiss cheese and weigh it. It comes up to 0.995 pounds.)

Customer’s Wife: “Jesus Christ!”

(She grabs the arm of another passing customer.)

Customer’s Wife: “You’ve got to see this! This guy is Cheese Man!”

Me: “Ma’am, please don’t give away my secret identity. The cheese villains of the world would hunt me down.”

Me: “Here is your coffee, sir.”

Customer: “Oh, could you add more milk to that?”

Me: “Sure.”

(Since the coffee cup is already full, I walk over to the sink to pour a little out before adding more milk.)

Customer: “Stop that! I didn’t say to pour any out!”

Me: “Sir, the cup was full. In order to add more milk, I have to pour a little coffee out.”

Customer: “You should obey what your customers tell you!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but sometimes I have to obey the laws of physics instead.”

Me: “Can I get eight ounces of the sliced ham?”

Deli Worker: “We can’t do that.”

Me: “Okay, how about half a pound?”

Deli Worker: “Sure thing!”

(Seeing the line for the deli stretch halfway through the produce section, I stand in line while my fiancé goes for the rest of the stuff. Every single person in line ahead of me goes through the same process.)

Customer: “Let me get some ham.”

Deli Worker: “What kind of ham?”

Customer: “Um… [brand].”

Deli Worker: “Okay… What kind? Honey glazed, regular, salt free?”

Customer: “Oh… uh… [type].”

Deli Worker: “How much?”

Customer: “Um…”

(This continues on, not just for each customer, but even when one customer has multiple items! I finally step up to the counter just as my fiancé arrives.)

Me: “Let me get 1/4 pound [brand] low-sodium roast reef, 1/4 pound [brand] low-sodium turkey, and 1/2 pound [store brand] American yellow, please.”

Deli Worker: “Ooh honey, you’re my favorite customer of the day!”

Fiancé: “What was that about?”

Me: “Apparently, I’m the only person here that thinks ahead!”

Customer After Me: “Let me get some… salami.”

Deli Worker: “Here we go again!”

Assistant Manager: “Did you make those sandwiches in the cooler?”

Me: “Yup.”

Assistant Manager: “You did them all wrong! They are totally f***ed up!”

Me: “What’s wrong with them?”

Assistant Manager: “The CHEESE goes on the TOP and the MEAT goes on the BOTTOM, godd*** it!”

Me: “That’s not what [Manager] told me last week.”

Assistant Manager: “SHUT UP!”

(He grabs the tray of sandwiches and throws it hard against the wall, putting a dent in the wall and spilling the sandwiches all over the floor.)

Assistant Manager: “Now pick that sh** up and do it RIGHT!”

(The next day…)

Manager: “Who made these sandwiches?!”

Me: “I did.”

Manager: “They’re all WRONG! You’ve been working here for two weeks and you can’t even make the d*** sandwiches right?!”

Me: “How did I make them wrong?”

Manager: “You put the cheese on top and the meat on the bottom! The cheese is supposed to be on the bottom and the meat is supposed to be on top, for like the millionth time!”

Me: “Well, [Assistant Manager]—”

Manager: “I don’t want to hear your excuses!”

(She dumps the sandwiches in the trash.)

Manager: “Make them again, the right way this time!”

Me: “I could have just fixed those. You didn’t have to throw them out.”

Manager: “Stop running your d*** mouth and make new sandwiches! GOD, we’ve been losing so much money ever since you started here!”

(The day after that, the assistant manager and manager are both in the deli at the same time. I hear my assistant manager talking under his breath about me to the manager.)

Assistant Manager: “Look at that dumba** [My Name] over there. He always f***s up the sandwiches.”

Manager: “I know! Every day he works, the sandwiches are all wrong!”

Assistant Manager: “Yeah. Plus, he put that dent in the wall.”

Manager: “That was him? [My Name]!”

Me: “Yes?”

Manager: “You did this?!” *points to the dent in the wall*

Me: “Nope. That was [Assistant Manager]. He did it when he threw the tray of sandwiches two days ago.”

Manager: “Now you’re lying and trying to get him in trouble?! I don’t even know why I hired you! I know it was YOU who threw that tray of sandwiches!”

Assistant Manager: “Yeah, what are you doing, blaming me for what YOU did? You can’t even make the f***ing sandwiches!”

Me: “All right, just so I understand once and for all, why don’t you show me the right way to make the sandwiches?”

Assistant Manager: “Don’t get smart with me. Your a** is already on thin ice.”

(He grumbles to himself the whole time, cursing me out in a low voice, but goes and gets the sandwich supplies.)

Assistant Manager: “Now, WATCH, and maybe you’ll learn something for once in your f***ing life.”

(My assistant manager starts making a sandwich with the cheese on top and the meat on the bottom, like he told me to do.)

Manager: “Whoa, whoa, [Assistant Manager]. What the h*** are you doing?!”

Assistant Manager: “What…?”

Manager: “The meat goes on top and the cheese goes on the bottom!”

Assistant Manager: “No, it doesn’t!”

Manager: “That’s company policy, and always has been!”

Assistant Manager: “They look better the other way! More people buy them this way!”

Manager: “Are you f***ing insane?! Stop doing it this crazy way and do it the way you’re supposed to!”

Assistant Manager: “This is the best way to do it, b****! I don’t give a sh** what corporate says!”

Manager: “I can’t believe I’m hearing this!”

(The two of them kept yelling back and forth at each other, throwing and smashing the sandwich supplies all over the place. After a minute or two, I casually started whistling, unfastened my name badge, dropped it on the floor, and walked out the front door. A month later, the deli was out of business.)