The Great British Shout Off
It’s about an hour before closing, and I’m behind the counter of our little coffee and pastry van. We have a regular end-of-day deal: all pastries go half price during the final thirty minutes before we shut.
A woman stomps up to the counter.
Customer: “I’ll take a pastry.”
Me: “That’s £2.50.”
Customer: “No, they’re half price.”
Me: “Sorry, the half-price deal starts half an hour before closing. That’s in another thirty minutes.”
Customer: *Huffs loudly.* “But I’m here now. Just give it to me for half price! No one else is going to come and buy your old-looking pastries now!”
Me: “You mean like you just wanted to?”
She crosses her arms and starts staring.
Customer: “How long have you been in this country? You need to show more respect to local Brits!”
I am about to explain to this woman that I was born and raised in the area, when an old man sitting nearby with a cappuccino (who I’d served about ten minutes earlier) strolls on over. He pulls out his wallet:
Other Customer: “I’ll take all six pastries that you have left there, thank you.”
The woman’s eyes nearly pop out of her head.
Customer: “You can’t do that! They’re reserved for me! You’re not allowed to sell them!”
Me: “…you haven’t bought them.”
Customer: “That’s my pastry!”
Other Customer: “Then you should have bought it.”
Customer: *Glaring at the old man, but talking to me.* “Fine! I don’t want anything that your kind made anyway!”
She stormed off and I hand the bag of six pastries to the guy.
Me: “That’s £7.50, please.”
Other Customer: “You mean £15?”
Me: “Oh, my phone conveniently ran out of battery. I’m just assuming it’s about half an hour before I close.”
Other Customer: *Happily tapping his card for £7.50.* “The wife will be pleased! Unlike whoever that was.”
Me: “She was a bit angry, wasn’t she?”
Other Customer: “And stupid! Going on about British this and that but flipping out about not getting a DANISH pastry?! Stupid person!”
