Well, Ain’t She A (S)Pill?

A woman and her young daughter enter our store. The daughter is licking on an ice cream cone and dripping liquid ice cream on the floor.

I quickly grab some paper towels and rush to clean the spillage. While I’m on my knees and wiping, I talk to them — mostly to the daughter but loud enough for the mother to hear.

Me: “Could you do us a favor and finish your ice cream before you enter the store? That would be really kind of you.”

Mother: “What did you say?”

Me: *Standing up* “I asked you to please finish your ice cream outside before you come in here.”

Mother: “Why? What exactly is the problem?”

I stand there for a second with my mouth open before thankfully catching myself. I point at the floor I cleaned ten seconds before.

Me: “This, ma’am. This is the problem.”

She huffed and left the store with her kid while I stood there shaking my head. I went “backstage” and vented to our security guard, who checked the tapes, and it turned out that the woman was HIS WIFE, who had come to visit him and who called him from outside right at that moment.

He went to greet her and explained to her in no uncertain terms why you should not eat ice cream inside a store.