"Hi there, what can I get for you guys?"
"What do you have for sandwhiches?"
"We have tuna salad wraps, salami and provolone on white and smoked meat and havarti on brown"
"So do you have any ham and cheddar?"
"No"
"Any turkey?"
"No, sorry"
"Ok I'll get the ham and cheddar"
*head-to-desk*
In a last ditched attempt to salvage my sanity, I have decided to enjoy my job - to go about it with reckless enthusiam seen only in severely medicated head-trauma patients. Even if I cannot convince myself that I actually am cheerful, I will at least annoy the hell out of someone else. I will rejoice in my role as the magical beer fairy, where ordering a drink while staring at my chest will result in hops lactation for the convinience of the golfer. I will replace the urge to throat punch the customer with... a slightly more delicate slap to the solar plexus.
Till my medication kicks in, I'll have to amuse myself by creating elaborate zombie fan-fiction starring my least favourite customers as the unfortunate fodder for the apocolyptic hordes.
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