I waited on a guy yesterday who had wandered in looking for the buffet. Perhaps he had mistaken our establishment for Denny’s. There’s not a Denny’s for miles around, but this guy seemed more than a little confused — about everything.
He was unconvinced that we didn’t have a buffet. I suppose we could have been hiding it somewhere. (We weren’t!) At some point I was considering forcing one of my coworkers to hold a steam tray filled with product — to become a human buffet — just to shut this guy up.
He was disgruntled about the fact that our honey wheat bread contains, oddly enough, honey. Apparently, he’s not a fan of honey. He asked me to bring him the plain whole wheat bread. I explained that I was not a chemist or a magician — that I could not remove the honey from already-baked bread. I got the feeling that I was beginning to get on his nerves. The feeling was mutual.
He was confounded by our lunch combinations and suggested that we go outside and read the sign advertising them together. I declined. I’d rather act as a human buffet or try to siphon honey out of bread than allow myself to be dragged outside, unprotected, with this maniac — I’m pretty sure his was the white van parked in the lot. That’s a CSI episode just waiting to happen.
He was taken aback by the bacon bits (we use the yummy real ones, not the fake, processed kind) that were sprinkled on his, also free, side of cheesy potato chips. I explained that this item was served in lieu of something like coleslaw — that he should think of it as a garnish, not as an assault on his dietary restrictions. I took a leap of faith by assuming he knew what “garnish” meant.
He could not wrap his mind around the concept of a half-sandwich. He repeatedly questioned me, upon receiving this item — an item that we had spent a very, very long time discussing the ins and the outs of — as to where the rest of his sandwich was. What I’d like to know is where the rest of his brain was. Unearthing this information seems like it could be someone’s life’s work — someone other than myself.
I’m going to assume that someone at the mental institution where he resides noted his absence at lunchtime yesterday. I hope they keep better tabs on him in the future. Because, really, I have no time for this sort of thing.