Do you have any Texas quarters?

The office park I work in has a very limited selection of food vendors, so most people end up going to this little sandwich shop. It’s not bad – decent selection of custom sandwiches, cute and courteous waitstaff – but its one drawback is that there’s always a line for the single cash register. It’s an annoying bottleneck, especially because the person running the register has to occasionally grab coffee or desserts, and because the people buying lunch often decide to dash across the room to grab a Snapple while in the middle of paying.

So even if you actually * liked * waiting in line, the process would be tedious.      I always make it a point to pay as fast as I can to present as little of an inconvenience as possible for those people behind me.   Today, I was next up to the register.   The man in front of me got a salad, asked for some cookies, paid with a bank card (quite a bit slower than paying cash) and finally, when the cashier was about to get the change, said, "Do you have any Texas quarters?"

At which point I politely suggested that he leave the coin collecting for a time when there weren’t people waiting in line. He seemed quite affronted – apparently the notion that other people were waiting for him to pay and get the hell out of the way hadn’t previously dawned on him.

So now I’m wondering who was more discourteous – me for not willing to wait the extra 20 or 30 seconds while the cashier fumbled through the quarter drawer, or the guy in front of me who casually assumed that those 20 or 30 seconds were his to take.

You weren’t out of line, as long as you were polite.

And BTW, you call this a rant? Puh-leeze. Stick in IMHO next time. :stuck_out_tongue:

Him. If he wants quarters, he should go to a bank.

You were in the right, as long as you didn’t come across as harsh.

I mean, the man was being a dumbass. Dumbasses need to be reigned in every once in awhile. You did the world a service.

Just leave the money on the table with the check and walk out. Problem solved!

Coin-boy is a moron! You should have punched him in the throat. :smiley: Howz that for a Pit response?

Ya know, I was more than a bit irritated, and I was going to rant, but I guess I’m just the kind of guy who bottles it up. But in my pantheon of sins, not paying attention to the people that you’re inconveniencing ranks pretty high. (In my solipsitic universe, those people who like to hold little impromptu get-togethers in front of doorways are going to be surprised to find what level of Hell they’re assigned.)

Nice work. I get really fucking infuriated by people who are, by all apearances, absolutely oblivious to the needs of those around them. In fact, i think they annoy me more than the true asshole, because at least with the true asshole i don’t feel bad about calling him an idiot. But when you politely point out to Mr. or Ms. Oblivious that they are inconveniencing others, they usually react just the way your quarter collector did, and get all defensive.

This dude is going to playing his accordian on a hot bench next to the people who spend an interminable wait in line yacking at their friends, picking at their fingernails, staring off into space, or some combination of these three, then act surprised and shocked when they finally reach the counter.

A counter? At the end of a line??? Why, how novel! How exciting! It’s almost as though you haven’t been stading in line for twenty minutes waiting to get here!

But, what does one do at this . . . how you say . . . lunch counter? “Oh. Er . . . ahhh . . . ummm . . . . What kind of sandwiches do you have here?” The sandwich maker (who sees this so often that she is beyond even feeling exasperated at this sort of behavior, and simply accepts it as the natural order of things) points a plastic-gloved finger upward, and the self-absorbed airhead has to step back to read the freakin’ menu that has been hanging up there the whole time.

How droll! Imagine them putting up a menu where you can see it while you stand in line for twenty minutes waiting for the chance to order your goddamn sandwich!

At this point, there’s no point in being angry, really, as I have already crisply delivered my sandwich order while bashing the offender over the head with my brown plastic tray and waiting patiently for my sandwich as I jam a plastic fork into his neck and twist, twist, twist . . .

Wait, so the cashier actually looked around for a Texas quarter? If that were me, I would have laughed that guy out of town. Dang, mate, he must be one scary fellow if the cashier obliged this ridiculous request. The cashier and the guy were both in the wrong, IMO, although the cashier committed a lesser sin.