BLT?
Many moons ago I worked in teh media for this harpie who owned the company. She used to corner me in the hallway and get me to escort her down to the Starbucks because she was afraid of being mugged in Soho by 'all the ungodly queers' (I kid you not)

One morning as I escorted her into the shop, her greedy talons clutching at my arm as she tottered on her impossibly high heels (I remember she was about 4'9"), there was a long queue and she started screeching about service and how as a long time customer she should be served first. Knowing that she was a right pain, but a bit of a goldmine that must have spent over a grand a month there on all sorts she'd buy but not consume, just because she could.

Anyway, the manager comes up to her and asks her what she would like

Bitch: I want a double frappalapptingablahlblahblah with no ice and no caffeine.
Manager: Madam, all frappalapptingablahblahblah are made with with ice.
B: Oh, well, make me one without ice. And I want this toasted (hands him a BLT)
M: Certainly
B: But I don't want the bacon or the lettuce or the tomato and I only want some butter with it.
M: So you want plain toast, madam?
B: Erm...

At this point she made a huge fuss while her mobile rang and she was trying to retrieve it from a bag that was HUGE and stormed out of the shop, still teetering on the heels.

Manager gives me this sympathetic look and tells me that she shan't be served there any longer since all his staff were sick and tired of dealing with her.

I got made redundant a week later.

Length? About 17 people in the queue. It was 9.15 am after all...
(Marmoset Bored bored bored of cnuting revision..., Fri 5 Sep 2008, 15:56, Reply)