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Putting on Socks

Our oldest regular, a spry 90 year old, was in today. With her eagle sharp eyes, she noticed from across the room that I was wearing mismatched socks (and they were ankle socks too, so barely visible).

After calling me on it, she decided to have some fun.

90: Anna, come here!

Me: yeah, what’s up?

90: what time did you get up this morning

Me: 10, why?

90: Are you sure you didn’t get up at midnight? Are you sure you didn’t grope around blindly in the dark? Are you sure you were fully awake when you put on those socks?

Cheeky! Regulars like her make the job a little brighter :)

Status

The Day of Weird Phone Calls

Normally at Café Italia, the phone calls are so routine that I could do them in my sleep. “What’s the special?” “What’s the soup of the day?” “It’s me, [regular customer], I’d like to order [my regular thing].” The really wild callers will ask to speak to Oliver, sometimes in broken English with a heavy Italian accent. But for some reason, today was a weird one for phone calls.

Rejected Over the Phone

*ring ring*
Me: Hello, Café Italia
Caller 1: Hello, is this a restuarant?
Me: Yes, this is Café Italia.
Caller 1: No, Ok, I don’t want that. Goodbye.
Me: Ooohkay, goodbye.

Do You Work With [Dead Psychologist]?

*ring ring*
Me: Hello, Café Italia
Caller 2: *inaudible mumbling*…looking for someone who works there. Do you know *inaudible* Skinner? (I couldn’t hear the first words she said, but my inner psych major was really hoping that she was calling for BF Skinner, the dead father of operant conditioning, and legendary school prankster)
Me: Well, there are only two employees here, myself and the owner, Oliver.
Caller 2: Oliver? Are you sure there’s no one there named *still inaudible* Skinner?
Me: No, sorry.
Caller 2: *sounding dejected* Ok, then. Goodbye.
After she hung up, I told Oliver about the phone call, and he jokingly said he could change his name to Skinner of the caller wanted.

Who’s Donna?

Me: Hello, Café Italia
Caller 3: Can I speak to Donna?
Me: Sorry, who?
Caller 3: Da Ownah! Da Ownah!
Me: Oh, sure!
Oliver told me after he got off the phone with this fellow that the man wanted to know if we accepted credit cards. Why I wasn’t good enough to answer that question, we’ll never know.