The Strife Of Brian

Customer: “I’d like a [burger combo] meal, and the… uh… the…” *Mumbles*

He says the last item so quietly and softly that I don’t hear it.

Me: “Sorry, sir, what was that last item?”

Customer: *Loud whisper* “The salad. It’s not for me! It’s for my girlfriend!”

Me: “Of course, sir.”

Customer: “Can you like… hide the salad? I don’t want people to think I’m gay.”

Me: “Eating lettuce is homosexual?”

Customer: “Well, no, but… you know.”

Me: *Cocking head in confusion* “No, I really don’t.”

Customer: “It’s a kinda gay meal! It’s not like it’s a steak or a burger or something! Look, just double-bag it and keep it separate from my other stuff.” 

Me: “Okaaaay? Can I get a name for the order?”

Customer: “Brian.”

I take his order, but it’s my manager who puts it all together. (He’s one of those awesome managers who works the line with us). He also heard the entire conversation. 

Manager: “That’s one Pride Special Rainbow Salad for Brian! With extra pink radish!”

Brian is red but ignoring my manager.

Manager: “One Pride Special Rainbow Salad for Brian? No? Okay, well, it’ll sit here along with the burger and fries until it’s taken!”

After a good couple of minutes, Brian sheepishly ran up to the counter, grabbed the bags, and leaves. I think he was weighing up his options of complaining and causing a scene, or just getting his girlfriend her food as quickly as possible.