I’m standing at the deli counter and the grocery store is about to close. I’m the only one there and I’m patiently waiting for the deli woman to turn around and see me so I can ask for some ham. But before she does, this enormously obese woman walks up behind me and says, “I’ll take a pound of the white bean salad when you get a chance.”
I give the obese woman the evil eye, but she’s immune. She doesn’t look at me.
The deli worker doesn’t respond. She reaches in the deli case and pulls out the ham. Obese woman says, “I’ll take the rest of that ham, too.”
Now I’m pissed. So I say, “Can I get a half pound of ham?”
Obese woman looks at me like I’m the one who’s broken the rules.
The deli woman wordlessly cuts the ham, as a third woman approaches and says, “Ooh, you ain’t gonna throw that ham out, is you?”
I’m on the brink of walking away angrily as I watch the deli woman. She puts the ham in a container, weighs it, and gives it to me. “Anything else?” she says.
I’m surprised, and I say, “No.”
And she says, “Let me give you some advice. You need to be a little nicer. You ain’t gotta come in here with your pencil-whipped fancy pants and get all crusty.” (I have no idea what “pencil-whipped fancy pants” are).
I’m about to say that I was angry at the other customers, but I just leave it at “Okay,” and I walk away.