An Ode to the Customer

 I have worked in a local Italian Ice shop for the past five years, and I really do like my job. The people I work with are fun, and I get free Italian Ice and Custard every time I work… which, aside from an unlimited supply of cheetos, is clearly a fatty's dream. So I cannot really complain. However, nearly every shift, I or my co-workers have to deal with a customer who is convinced that we have absolutely no idea what we're doing. Or a customer who has specifications for their dessert treat that would befuddle the architects of Versailles palace. Or a customer who is shocked and appalled that we don't have their favorite flavor in a special golden tin reserved just for them. And so for them I write the following:

They say the customer's always right,

But that is just not true.

This has created quite a plight,

That's made me oh so blue.

For every day I go to work,

To serve treats to the masses.

But every time there comes a jerk,

That ruins my shift as it passes.

For customers, they seem to think,

That they know what they're doing.

So when unhappy they cause a stink,

And start with complaints eschewing.

"That custard? It is much too small!"

Or "that has too much fudge!"

People have got too much gall,

For all my treats to judge.

"Did I say mango? I didn't mean it,

Clearly I meant cherry."

Was I supposed to read your mind?

Now that is just plain scary!

I think that after all these years,

I know how to make your food.

So please, sir, save your tears,

Or else you're really screwed.

Because as soon as you bother me,

About the state of your ice.

I am clearly much less likely

To continue being nice.

And I can absolutely promise you

That yelling will do no good.

For all the insults you can spew

Hardly convince me that I should

Make you a new treat

That's better than the last,

Something you can actually eat,

Reminiscent of treats past.

Because last time what you got

Was better than ever before

So you throw a fit cuz it's not

Available today in our store.

I know this probably will appall,

But flavors… we've got fifty.

So while we'd like to have them all,

It really just is not thrifty.

So please just pick another one,

And move on with your life,

It's just dessert and done,

It's not worth all this strife!

So next time that you go out

And get yourself a treat

From your lips should spout

A chant we'll now repeat:

The customer has got no clue,

In fact, they might be batty

Instead I know what you should do,

Just eat the treat you fatty!

So next time you visit your local dessert shop, remember that the employees probably did their best to make your treat the correct size and put the right amount of each topping on the right place that you vaguely directed. If we don't have your favorite flavor, just pick a different one, don't ask if we're actually hiding extra in the back (I promise you that there is no conspiracy against you) or throw a temper tantrum and insist that we make it "RIGHT NOW!" And on the off chance that we make a mistake, remember that we're all human, even the fine employees of that establishment.