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    Their Job Is Toast

    (I have just had the packing removed from my nose after having surgery to fix a deviated septum. On doctor’s orders, I’m not allowed to eat anything hotter than lukewarm.)

    Me: “Footlong BMT on Italian with American cheese.”

    Employee: “Toasted?”

    Me: “No.”

    (The employee puts the sandwich together, but proceeds to put it in the toasting oven.)

    Me: “Excuse me? I said to not toast it.”

    Employee: “I know, but it tastes better this way.” *moves on to the customer behind me*

    Me: “I don’t care. I said to not toast it, and you didn’t listen!”

    Employee: “What do you want me to do, make you a new sandwich?”

    Me: “Yes, I do!”

    (We argue back an forth for a good five minutes. Some customers are amused, while others are getting annoyed. Finally, the manager comes out from the back office to see what the commotion is. My now-cold sandwich is sitting on the counter.)

    Employee: “Finally! Will you tell this girl this is what she ordered? BMT footlong on Italian, toasted? ”

    Customer behind me: “No, she didn’t. She said she didn’t want it toasted. You toasted it anyway, and have been acting like a b**** ever since.”

    (Thankfully, the manager fired her on the spot. Apparently, I’m not the only one she did this to.)

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