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(I’m standing in a fairly short queue when a businessman walks in, pushes straight to the front and starts dictating his order to the 20-something-year-old cashier.)
Cashier: “I’m afraid you’re going to have to go to the back of the queue, sir.”
Businessman: “I have an important meeting shortly. You must serve me now!”
Cashier: “Yeah, the longer you stand there, the later you’re going to be. Back of the queue.”
Businessman: “Do you have any idea who I am?”
Cashier: “Nope. Now shut up and go to the back of the queue.”
Businessman: “How dare you talk to me like that?! Get me your manager now!”
(The cashier sighs heavily, walks into the back, comes out with an older woman in tow and nods her towards the businessman, then disappears back into the back.)
Manager: “What seems to be the problem, sir?”
Businessman: “That boy was incredibly rude to me! I demand you fire him immediately!”
Manager: “I’m afraid I don’t have the authority to do that, but if you want I can get the owner for you.”
Businessman: “Bah! Fine, but I expect to be compensated for having to go through all of this trouble!”
Manager: “I’m sure you can discuss that with him, Sir.”
(She then walks into the back, then comes out again with the now grinning cashier.)
Cashier: “Yo.”
Businessman: “What’s the meaning of this? I said I wanted to talk to the owner!”
Cashier: “Like I said, yo.”
(The businessman silently gapes for a few seconds, then walks out stammering threats about having his head and closing the shop down.)
Manager: “Why do you always have to involve me?”
Cashier: “I just love the look on their stupid little faces when they find out I own this joint.”
(The manager rolls her eyes and walks into back.)
Cashier: “I love this job. What can I get you?”
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