The Only Thing We’re Out Of Is Patience

I’m at a small, hole-in-the-wall barbecue place; it’s not anything to look at, but the food is excellent. The owner, who’s run the place for decades after inheriting it from his father, cooks only so much meat every day. He then opens up at 10:30, sells until he runs out, and then shuts down for the day, usually by 1:00 p.m.

On this particular day, there’s a substantial line waiting to order. Just after noon, the phone rings. The owner pauses from serving to answer the phone, and we just hear his side of the conversation.

Owner: “Hello?” *Pauses* “Where?” *Pauses* “No, sorry, we’re almost out.” *Pauses* “No, sorry.” 

And he hangs up. Those of us in line are a little worried. He’s almost sold out of food?

Owner: *To us* “Don’t worry, folks. I’ve got plenty left. That guy was all the way over by [Local Mall twenty minutes away]. He’s got lots of places he can eat over there.”