Tales from the Pizza Shop, Part 1: Mr. Leftie

I worked in the pizza shop of a local grocery store for about six years.  It was fun for the most part, but everyone knows that the best thing about working in customer service is being able to laugh at all of the ridiculous clientele.  Today, I am going to tell you about Mr. Leftie.  

It all started a few months into my job at the store.  I started out working as a cashier in the food court area, and part of the duties was to wipe down tables when it was slow so that the customers could have somewhere clean to sit.  I was doing this one day, minding my own business, when Mr. Leftie (who did not yet have this nickname) interrupted. 

"Left-handed, huh?" He asked. 
"Yep," I replied. 
"I'm glad you're cleaning the table left-handed, because I'm going to be eating at the table left-handed!" 

Not really knowing what to do or say, I smiled politely and moved to the back of the dining room, simultaneously becoming ashamed of my lefthanders calendar at home.  Was I like this guy? 

Fast forward to about a year later, after I had started working in the pizza shop.  Mr. Leftie would call us up probably every other week.  This is how every conversation with him would go: 

"How can I help you?" 
"I would like to order a large cheese pizza with banana peppers."  
"All right, is there anythi--" 
"Why do we always say 'all right?'  I think that is unfair to all of the left-handed people like me!" 
"I guess you're right." 
"See?!  Always using the word 'right!'" 
"O...kay?  That'll be about 20 minutes."  


He would inevitably come to pick up his pizza while I was slicing it, and would go to his old standby: 


"I'm glad you're cutting that pizza left-handed, because I'm going to be eating it left-handed!" 


As you can imagine, Mr. Leftie became pretty annoying.  Being cut off every single time you uttered the word "right" takes its toll on a person.  I was also not the only person who was subject to these strange conversations, as pretty much everyone else in the department had dealt with him at one point.  


So it got to where we started messing with Mr. Leftie on purpose.  


"I would like to order a large cheese pizza with banana peppers." 
"Aaallllll RIGHT!" 


I would cut the pizza with my right hand, risking maiming myself in the process, just to get a reaction out of this guy. 

And not only did he say weird things, but he was also the most bizarre looking person I'd ever seen.  He looked like a caricature, with a gigantic head and expressive eyes that would tell you your obvious douchebaggery in an attempt to screw with him and totally worked.  


We tried to weave the word "right" into our sentences, and we became experts at it.  


I'm not sure whatever happened to Mr. Leftie after I stopped working there, but the last time I saw him he was riding his bike down the middle of Main Street.  


He did, however, teach me one important thing (other than the fact that my own left-handedness was now about 476 times more lame): 

The customer is not always right.