take your dairy and shove it.

The is a man that lives or works at the Mayo. He came in last week and ordered breakfast, after asking many questions. He was well dressed. Charcoal slacks. A nice sweater. He asked what is in the oatmeal. I answered. Milk was not in the answer. I began to make the oatmeal he ordered. He stared at me, with vulcher-esque eyes, and waited for me to misstep one of the oatmeal making steps. In the middle of the process, the stare was accompanied by a request.

"Could you put some milk in there?" he said.

"What kind of milk?" I responded.

"What kind do you have?" he asked.

Attempting to conceal the annoyed tone of voice that is trying to make its way out, I answer, "soy. whole milk. non-fat. half and half." And then I just stared at him, and waited for him to make his decision.

"Non-fat."

He came in again, just a minute or two ago. I am on my break, so I wasn't forced to offer him service, which is a good thing, because today, my customer-service-ometer is broken.

— example: When the lady that ordered her husbands drink let me know that...

"at starbucks, he gets a small black and white mocha in a medium cup and they top it off with coffee and whip cream..."

I just looked at her befuzzled, and said, "so you want me to put coffee in a latte?"

"No. A black and white mocha", she says. "And they top it off with coffee."

I decided she just like saying the phrase "top it off", gave up, and made the desperate concoction, minus the whip cream, because we are out. —

Back to breakfast man:

Derek was helping him. He asked what comes on the breakfast sandwich. Derek answered, "egg, ham and cheese, and it comes on a croissant." This is the same answer I gave the man last week, when he asked me, and both Derek and I spoke in English when answering him.

He ordered it.

Derek began to make his breakfast sandwich. He stared, hovering over the counter, with the same vulcher-esque eyes he used with me. He shifted when Derek retrieved something from the refrigerator. He moved positions when Derek walked to the grill. He stared. As Derek began to add the cheese to the breakfast sandwich that Derek had, just a few moments before, explained comes with cheese, the control-freak-well-dressed-indecisive-insanely-annoying-customer-of-a-man, says, "I don't want cheese". "Okay", Derek says kindly, "but we have brie and swiss if you'd rather have that..."

"I will have swiss".