Can I Get a Witness?

As I move closer to the register, I hear Patrick very politely order a medium rootbeer. Uses the key words, "may I" and "please" and makes his mother proud. Yay me.

To my complete disbelief, Miss Buckteeth Bad Attitude Weak Chin Charm School Flunky replies, "I need to wait on her first," and points her grubby little finger at the woman in front of me. The woman behind Patrick.

Before I can respond for Patrick, the woman in front of me turns to me and makes a face as if to say, "WTF?" and begins to say to Miss Buckteeth, "It's okay, I'm still waiting for my pizza." But I have begun to speak at the same time, and the woman realizes that Pat is with me, and there is even more reason not to wait on her first.

She snaps her head around mid-sentence and in total astonishment and says, a little overly loudly, and gesturing between Pat and me, "He's with you???!!!"

And then without waiting for Buckteeth to make yet another critical tactical error, picks up her tray and gets behind me in the line so as to force her to wait on Pat and me first.

I am clearly on fumes in the patience department, but swallow hard and ask Pat to order his soda again. Our last slices of pizza have been taken from the oven by the pizza maker who is trying to ensure chain of custody all the way to the register.

Pat gets his rootbeer, Buckteeth rings up our tab and mumbles a total. I whip out my debit card and hand it to her. Patrick has taken his soda to a table behind us and is returning for the tray. Bucky is handing me a folded stack of paper napkins and I am handing Pat the tray. The lady behind me is shaking her head. I would too but I have too much going on.

I look up at Bucky and notice that the Manager has finally come out to survey the situation. Wonder what tipped him off...maybe Pizza Maker.

I say to her as she stares with all the emotion of a marionette, "Can I get a receipt?" and then add "Or is that asking for too much?"

She flatly replies, "It is stuck in your napkins."

And I reply, in mock oh-silly-me-of-course-it-is-ness, "It's in my napkins! Why didn't I think to look there?" And as I pull them apart I realize it is not there at all.

I look up again and say "Pardon me but it is NOT in my napkins..." and would have asked for another but she beats me to the punch and says, "Well you must have lost it."

No, but I'm losing it now!

I look directly at the manager and point to her, and say, "I don't know where you found her, but she's..." and before I can begin the litany of unflattering descriptive terms, the woman behind me interjects, "RUDE! She's rude!"

And I add that this has been my most abysmal retail experience to date, that she is not only completely clueless, she is also uncommonly rude, and unpleasant and unapologetic about it. She walked away while I was ordering, gave away my pizza, and was generally a menace to the whole production. I tell them to forget about the receipt, I'll remember the number as vividly as I remember this hideous experience.

Thankfully, Pat is not bothered at all about the way his mother is carrying on. I suppose in the scheme of things, I pale in comparison with his grandmother. Buckteeth should be thanking the Patron Saint of the Unemployable that it was me and not Estelle who darkened her door today.

Moments later the manager brings the receipt over to the table and sheepishly tells me that it was on the counter. I reply"Thank you, I knew I had not misplaced it." I think to elaborate on his sub-par employee, but think better of it.

Oddly, the charge has yet to appear on my bank statements...I think Pat and I got a freebie for our trouble. Maybe Buckteeth is now working at the Chinese place across the way. She'd fit in nicely there.