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You must be retarded if you can't read my mind [longish]
I currently work at a bakery/cafe. Normally I make food, but I am trained on the cash registers. I was promoted to Trainer, which is basically a glorified worker. I get a spiffier uniform and when there's a new hire I spend one or two shifts explaining how-to to him. So while the position itself isn't a big deal, I got the promotion by being one of the best at what I do, a fact I am absurdly proud of 
Well, about two weeks after I got this shiny new promotion, I was scheduled to work registers on a Sunday morning. No big deal. About 7:30, the store was completely empty. I was twiddling my thumbs, the other cashier was stocking bagels, and my manager was wandering around checking on things. Anyway, this woman came in, and I rang her out.
Me: *cheery smile; my day was still looking up* Hello, how can I help you?
Sucky Customer (a short and fat woman with squinty eyes and dumpy clothes): Yes, this is to go. I want two plain bagels sliced in half, two cream cheeses, and a light hot chocolate.
("Light" hot chocolate is not on our menu, BTW.)
Me: How do you mean light?
SC: *incredulous stare* Light.
Me: Light on what? Chocolate?
SC: *hard stare* Yes.
Store Manager: *overhearing* Hot chocolate? I can get that for you.
Me: She wants it light on chocolate.
SM: Well, ma'am, we normally do three pumps of chocolate. How many would you like?
SC: One.
SM goes to coffee bar and makes hot chocolate
Me: So you have two plain bagels, sliced in half, two plain cream cheeses, and a hot chocolate, light, to go.
SC hands me credit card; I take this to mean "yes".
Me: That's n dollars and n cents.
I swipe her card, hand it and receipts back. I get bagels, run them through the bagel slicer, get cream cheeses, and put it all in a bag.
SC checks bag.
SC: *snooty tone* Excuse me? You forgot the knives.
Me: Oh, I'm so sorry.
I get knives and napkins. (Remember, I normally make the food, not sell it. It's a little mistake. Cut me some slack.)
SC: *harping tone* What were you thinking? How was I going to spread the cream cheese without any knives? Were you even thinking?
Me: *shocked at her rudeness* I'm so sorry, ma'am.
I put knives and napkins into bag.
Me: Have a nice day.
Whereupon I leave and circle the back room so that she has time to leave. I come back up front to find her still at the register. I make the mistake of making eye contact; she glares at me with her squinty, piggy eyes.
SC: *demanding tone* Excuse me? Are we having some sort of communication error here?
I go to the register.
Me: I'm sorry?
SC: I asked for bread sliced. These are sliced in half.
Me: *furious* I'm so sorry, ma'am.
I get two more bagels and run them through the bread slicer.
SC: *harping tone* How do you get that wrong? Are you new?
I look down at my chest; nope, the name tag still reads "Trainer". I try to be diplomatic; big mistake.
Me: No, I'm sorry. I thought I read that back to you; I must have misread it. (I of course did no such thing)
I get two more cream cheeses, knives, and napkins and put it all in the new bag. The SC has gotten her old cream cheeses and knives out of her old bag with her old bagels.
Me: *smiling* Oh, I went ahead and got you new cream cheese.
For some reason, this is against the 11th commandment. SC scowls; throws old stuff into her old bag and literally shoves it toward me.
SC: *nasty tone* I guess you have to dispose of it since I touched it.
Me: *empty smile* *screaming inside* Have a nice day, ma'am.
SC goes to coffee bar; checks receipt; comes back to register.
SC: *yells* You got this wrong, too. I distinctly asked for two hot chocolates; you only rang up one.
I can feel the muscles in my back clenching in a fight-or-flight response. I swallow my anger and chant my mantra: "I love this job, I love this job" (Which I do, just not the customers)
Me: I'm so sorry, ma'am. *begins ringing up her new order* Did you want the second one the same as the first?
SC: Yes. *glare* Not too bright, are you?
I almost lost it right there. I have a 4.0 GPA! I got a perfect score on my English ACT! I'm a teenager and I still have better manners than you! I can order items that are actually on the menu!
By now my hands are physically shaking.
Me: I'm sorry, ma'am.
The SM is already making another hot chocolate.
Me: *to SM* She wants it same as the first. *to SC* That'll be n dollars and n cents, ma'am.
SC hands me credit card; continues to mutter insults under her breath. I swipe her card, hand it back.
Me: Have a nice day, ma'am.
It should be noted at this point that "Have a nice day, ma'am" is Sylvia-ese for "Rot and die, mother
ing Anti--Christ!!!"
SC draws the manager 'aside'--all of 15 feet away from me--and mutters violently with gestures. I hear the words "wasteful", "rude", and "unintelligent" repeated, along the standard BS about her valuable time. I wipe down all of the equipment the manager used to make the hot chocolate, and then I start cleaning things that aren't even dirty. My entire body is shaking, and the only reason I'm not crying in rage is that she might mistake for sorrow, grief, or fear.
Eventually, my manager says loudly and clearly, "Well, she's an excellent employee, but I'll pass your concerns onto higher management." The SC looked like she'd bitten into a lemon and flounced out.
SM: Don't worry about it. I heard the order, and you read it straight back to her.
Me: *relieved* I read it back to her, she said yes, then I cashed her out and she had a problem.
SM: Well, you're definately okay. Don't worry about it.
I couldn't stop shaking though, so my co-worker told me she'd cover registers while I calmed down. So I forgot her plastic knives. Really, now, she wouldn't have found anything else to spread her cream cheese? She doesn't have knives at her house? And even if I did hopelessly botch her order, while somehow managing to read it back correctly from a mistaken screen, there is no reason to call me "new" or "not too bright" or "were you even thinking?". My shoulders hurt just typing this.
Well, about two weeks after I got this shiny new promotion, I was scheduled to work registers on a Sunday morning. No big deal. About 7:30, the store was completely empty. I was twiddling my thumbs, the other cashier was stocking bagels, and my manager was wandering around checking on things. Anyway, this woman came in, and I rang her out.
Me: *cheery smile; my day was still looking up* Hello, how can I help you?
Sucky Customer (a short and fat woman with squinty eyes and dumpy clothes): Yes, this is to go. I want two plain bagels sliced in half, two cream cheeses, and a light hot chocolate.
("Light" hot chocolate is not on our menu, BTW.)
Me: How do you mean light?
SC: *incredulous stare* Light.
Me: Light on what? Chocolate?
SC: *hard stare* Yes.
Store Manager: *overhearing* Hot chocolate? I can get that for you.
Me: She wants it light on chocolate.
SM: Well, ma'am, we normally do three pumps of chocolate. How many would you like?
SC: One.
SM goes to coffee bar and makes hot chocolate
Me: So you have two plain bagels, sliced in half, two plain cream cheeses, and a hot chocolate, light, to go.
SC hands me credit card; I take this to mean "yes".
Me: That's n dollars and n cents.
I swipe her card, hand it and receipts back. I get bagels, run them through the bagel slicer, get cream cheeses, and put it all in a bag.
SC checks bag.
SC: *snooty tone* Excuse me? You forgot the knives.
Me: Oh, I'm so sorry.
I get knives and napkins. (Remember, I normally make the food, not sell it. It's a little mistake. Cut me some slack.)
SC: *harping tone* What were you thinking? How was I going to spread the cream cheese without any knives? Were you even thinking?
Me: *shocked at her rudeness* I'm so sorry, ma'am.
I put knives and napkins into bag.
Me: Have a nice day.
Whereupon I leave and circle the back room so that she has time to leave. I come back up front to find her still at the register. I make the mistake of making eye contact; she glares at me with her squinty, piggy eyes.
SC: *demanding tone* Excuse me? Are we having some sort of communication error here?
I go to the register.
Me: I'm sorry?
SC: I asked for bread sliced. These are sliced in half.
Me: *furious* I'm so sorry, ma'am.
I get two more bagels and run them through the bread slicer.
SC: *harping tone* How do you get that wrong? Are you new?
I look down at my chest; nope, the name tag still reads "Trainer". I try to be diplomatic; big mistake.
Me: No, I'm sorry. I thought I read that back to you; I must have misread it. (I of course did no such thing)
I get two more cream cheeses, knives, and napkins and put it all in the new bag. The SC has gotten her old cream cheeses and knives out of her old bag with her old bagels.
Me: *smiling* Oh, I went ahead and got you new cream cheese.
For some reason, this is against the 11th commandment. SC scowls; throws old stuff into her old bag and literally shoves it toward me.
SC: *nasty tone* I guess you have to dispose of it since I touched it.
Me: *empty smile* *screaming inside* Have a nice day, ma'am.
SC goes to coffee bar; checks receipt; comes back to register.
SC: *yells* You got this wrong, too. I distinctly asked for two hot chocolates; you only rang up one.
I can feel the muscles in my back clenching in a fight-or-flight response. I swallow my anger and chant my mantra: "I love this job, I love this job" (Which I do, just not the customers)
Me: I'm so sorry, ma'am. *begins ringing up her new order* Did you want the second one the same as the first?
SC: Yes. *glare* Not too bright, are you?
I almost lost it right there. I have a 4.0 GPA! I got a perfect score on my English ACT! I'm a teenager and I still have better manners than you! I can order items that are actually on the menu!
By now my hands are physically shaking.Me: I'm sorry, ma'am.
The SM is already making another hot chocolate.
Me: *to SM* She wants it same as the first. *to SC* That'll be n dollars and n cents, ma'am.
SC hands me credit card; continues to mutter insults under her breath. I swipe her card, hand it back.
Me: Have a nice day, ma'am.
It should be noted at this point that "Have a nice day, ma'am" is Sylvia-ese for "Rot and die, mother
ing Anti--Christ!!!"SC draws the manager 'aside'--all of 15 feet away from me--and mutters violently with gestures. I hear the words "wasteful", "rude", and "unintelligent" repeated, along the standard BS about her valuable time. I wipe down all of the equipment the manager used to make the hot chocolate, and then I start cleaning things that aren't even dirty. My entire body is shaking, and the only reason I'm not crying in rage is that she might mistake for sorrow, grief, or fear.
Eventually, my manager says loudly and clearly, "Well, she's an excellent employee, but I'll pass your concerns onto higher management." The SC looked like she'd bitten into a lemon and flounced out.
SM: Don't worry about it. I heard the order, and you read it straight back to her.
Me: *relieved* I read it back to her, she said yes, then I cashed her out and she had a problem.
SM: Well, you're definately okay. Don't worry about it.
I couldn't stop shaking though, so my co-worker told me she'd cover registers while I calmed down. So I forgot her plastic knives. Really, now, she wouldn't have found anything else to spread her cream cheese? She doesn't have knives at her house? And even if I did hopelessly botch her order, while somehow managing to read it back correctly from a mistaken screen, there is no reason to call me "new" or "not too bright" or "were you even thinking?". My shoulders hurt just typing this.
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