customer: (at the decibel level of perhaps a sports announcer, and the annoyance level of someone dealing with a particularly stubborn small child) "All I'm asking is if those salads have fresh chicken on them or if it's just been sitting there cold on the salad!"
manager: "No, ma'am, the chicken is fresh."
customer: (Seemingly dumbfounded and disoriented by the realization that there might not be anything left to complain about, she turns around and notices the line of customers waiting as if for the first time.) "Is THAT the line to order?!?"
manager: "Yes, the line ends with that lady right there."
customer: (horrified expression on her face, as if the manager had just informed her that the chicken for the salads was obtained from the dumpster out back) Goodness, I'm not THAT hungry! (shaking head, she turns around and marches back out the door.)
I'd like to point out that the line contained exactly four people. Had Mrs. Fresh-Chicken-Only skipped the interrogation process and simply joined the line, at least two of us probably could have placed our orders by that time.
All I can say is that it least it gave the rest of us in line a good chuckle, and at least one of us something to blog about.