We always get these people, rather jerks, that come into Tim Hortons five minutes before they have to be to work and, of course, they have these complicated orders that they say really fast, then they get all pissed-off if we don't take and make their order at the speed of light. Personally, I could care less. It's their problem. I don't get paid more if they are on-time. Plus, my soul is black and I have plenty of my own problems - like, I don't have health insurance and my ingrown toenail still kills.
Anyway (since this isn't some sort of Emo blog), I had this lady, who was obviously late for work, pull up the other night and order. She wanted a small lemon tea with four equals, two milks and the tea bag taken out (kind of picky, but not too bad). Then she ordered her sandwich so fast that she could have been making a quick analysis on the elongated sentence structure of William Faulkner - I had no idea. After some pointed questions I figured out that she wanted ham and Swiss on a bagel. Still, I didn't know what kind of bagel. When I asked her she grew increasingly irate.
"Plain. Plain bagel, just hurry up," she barked.
Ok, I got that, Little Miss Thang, but then I heard The Sensible Skinhead in my headset asking me what type of condiment Little Miss Thang desired. I knew that she was probably going to spontaneously combust in her car, but I asked anyway.
"Plain," she barked.
Plain condiment? Now, I couldn't just take that answer. We don't have a plain condiment. Perhaps, I could have inferred that she didn't want any condiment, but I don't get paid to infer. I just do as I'm told and I wasn't sure what I was being told to do, so I asked again.
"Um, we don't carry a plain condiment. Do you want some Tim sauce? Perhaps some honey, or yellow mustard?"
"No!" she yelled. "Just plain, no condiments."
"Okie dokie, pull up for your total."