I was having a really bad day. I had barely slept the night before because being scheduled for an early shift hadn't made me any less nocturnal. I hadn't gotten anything to eat either. I forgot to pack a lunch and I was stalwartly holding out on buying something because working for $3.25 an hour plus a paltry amount of tips kind of makes you reluctant to purchase a $10 hamburger if you don't absolutely have to.
My sleep-deprivation and hypoglycemia were only aggravated by a string of rude and demanding customers - one guy didn't like the shape of his burger patty, a kid threw a fish stick at my head, some snobby lady made fun of my gaudy, oversized work uniform and I was verbally molested more times than I could count. In light of all of this, I was overjoyed to see a friendly-looking old man come in and seat himself in one of the booths.
I brought him a menu and cheerfully asked if there was anything he would like to drink. He was like
I quickly went and got him a big glass of cold milk. I handed it over to him with pride, feeling good about my prompt reaction-time and smiling service.
He stared at the milk silently for a few moments before shouting
He looked at me. He looked at the milk. He looked back at me. Then his wizened face contorted into a menacing scowl and he shrieked
I felt a little discouraged, but not yet defeated. As I noted before, we didn't have any intermediate-sized glasses, but that wasn't going to stop me from getting this man the exact right amount of milk. No, I needed to find a solution! That solution ended up being filling one of the large glasses halfway. It wasn't the prettiest way to present milk, but it got the job done.
I trotted the half-full glass of milk over to the man, who was now scowling at me from across the room like he was expecting me to fail. I cautiously held it out to him. .
It became immediately apparent that my crafty solution was not satisfactory.
I said, "Sir, we don't have any medium-sized glasses. We only have large glasses and small glasses."
Man: "What the hell are you talking about?"
Me: "The restaurant only has two sizes, small and large. We don't have any medium cups."
Man: "Why don't you have any other cups?"
Me: "I don't know. It's stupid. I'm sorry."
Man: "Do something about it."
Me: "I'll try."
I scurried back to the kitchen to work on somehow hand-crafting a medium-sized glass. I had very little to work with. We had some styrofoam to-go cups that were the same size as the large in-restaurant cups. I took one of the styrofoam cups and cut about three inches off of the top of it with a steak knife. It was not pretty. It looked like I had tried to gnaw the cup apart with my teeth. But it would have to suffice. I filled the monstrosity I had created with milk, took a deep breath and walked toward the man's table. I could see him glaring at me, daring me to disappoint him one more time.
He ended up ordering orange juice instead.