Okay, first, some background. Punk owns a restaurant, and one of the things that we do every year is run a booth at local food festivals. We sell fried dough & clam fritters. Its exhausting work, but the money is (weather permitting) good, and, for me at least, it's kind of a fun change of pace.This weekend the festival was Sailfest - 40-50 thousand people, rides, booths, food, bands, etc. And at our booth, as I already said - fried dough & clam fritters. I'm usually at the front of the booth - taking the money - yelling back the order, etc. I'm the nice one, so I'm the best choice, lol. One of the things we get - a lot - are questions. What are clam fritters? (a dropped batter made with chopped clams, salt, pepper, dill, etc). The more sarcastic question is often "Are there clams in your clam fritters? We jokingly answer, usually, "We usually just dip one by a string in the batter as we make it. If it falls off, it's your lucky day!". We want to say, "Yes, you retard, there are. Are you hinting that you think we're ripping you off?"
So, the story. An older biker couple came up tot he booth & ordered fritters. Didn't ask any questions, but they were just a little... weird. But they seemed okay - as they left, I actually told one of the guys in the booth "sometimes the weird ones turn out to be the best customers." Yeah..... about 30 minutes later, they come back, and she looks me in the eye and this is what I get from the woman. "You fucked me with the clam fritters. There weren't any clams in them, you took the clams and ran them right past! I can't believe you did that - they were terrible. I hate swearing but they were so bad you made me fucking swear!" I couldn't resist. my only response to her was "Well, in that case I'm really sorry, because I think I just made you swear twice!"
