the problematic headband.

the cafe is growing busier by the day. my aproned cohort and i have abandoned our normal job roles; on occasion, she mans the register and i assemble the orders. i spent the majority of yesterday's shift behind the sandwich bar.

seventeen sandwiches in, a man leaned across the counter requesting an animal farm on wheat. i informed him that we were out of wheat; it had been a busy day. he asked to have it a croissant. that will cost a dollar more. "sourdough then." i told him they were really small. he told me to stop hating. i cut the roll in half and began construction of the turkey and ham sandwich. the man went to pay for his meal.

within seconds, he was again standing across from me at the bar. "i decided i want it on onion. i don't have any dates lined up for tonight." i paused, mayo-mustard spread in hand. "you can just put the roll back in the bin. it's still good; use it for another sandwich." i threw the tainted bread into the plastic container and started again with a large onion roll.

i glanced at the register to see a large crowd forming. the girl at the head of the line was sporting a charming red headband; i told her i thought it was cute. she thanked me with a smile. the onion roll man leaned across the counter. "that was really awkward. you probably shouldn't say that ever again." i was confused. he attempted to clarify his judgement. "if someone told me that my wife was cute, i wouldn't take that as a compliment."

i tried to figure out the link between headbands and wives. did you think i said husband? "yes, and that isn't very appropriate." i told him that he misheard me; i had not been commenting on the physical features of her spouse. "oh. well, i think she may have thought the same thing. she walked away rather fast." i laughed. he may have been right.