Oink

This one happened just a few weeks ago. So there I was, working at Mr. Yogato, on what I thought was a typical Tuesday evening.  I was binge-eating Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, mango, Oreos, agave nectar, mochi, raspberries, Junior Mints, blackberries, tequila, wait scratch that last one, coconut, gummy bears, granola, Captain Crunch, kiwi, and of course a plethora of shots of tangy yogurt, as per usual.  Oh yeah, and I'd even periodically serve a customer amongst the gluttony fest.  "How many toppings?", "If you come for 30 days in a row, we'll even name a flavor after you!", "Yes, I'm single.", "No, why ever would I be sick of hearing 'Mr Roboto' over and over and over and over and over and over again?", "It's pronounced 'Yang-ohh-muh-saang-ohh.", "No, the olive oil isn't a joke.", "Tangy is my favorite!", "Yes, we have a bathroom (you drunk POS)", "No, we're not related to Pinkberry.", "Do you want a forehead stamp for 10% off?", "No, I'm not THE Mr. Yogato.", "Do you want fries with that?  Shit, I mean Fruity Pebbles!", "No, I can't give you the yogurt recipe.".  "Yes, we're hiring.  And no, you don't have to smoke crack to work here.", "No, I don't put Old Bay on my yogurt!".  And so on.

And then it happened.

Me:  "Yup, feel free to help yourself to any of the toppings above the bar here.  They're all free!"

Middle-aged female customer wearing glasses: "That's what she said."

I lost it.  For those of you who know me, you've probably figured out by now that my laugh sounds shockingly similar to a pig falling down the stairs.  Yup, there it was, my laugh, out of the blue, full-forced, right in the face of a poor, unsuspecting, middle-aged female customer.  So, yeah, the customer was referring the the fact that her female compadre had already mentioned the free toppings.  But it didn't matter...I couldn't help it.  She had no idea why I was practically in tears (saying "that's what she said", and actually meaning it!).  She gawked at me, and quickly scurried out of the store, yogurt in hand, probably never to return.  My trusty co-worker shot me an "Oh Mike, only you..." sort of look.