Ma’am? Ma’am? I can help you over here, ma’am. Over here. Yes ma’am, this counter is open. No, ma’am, I’m afraid you can’t have a meatball sub. This is Burger King, ma’am. No, it’s not D’angelo’s. It’s Burger King. D’angelo’s is across the street. If you like, I’d be happy to point it out to you. No? Thank you for choosing Burger King then, ma’am. What can I get you?
No, ma’am, we don’t have pizza either. This is Burger King, ma’am. Burger King. We have burgers, and fries, and a fish sandwich, and a couple chicken sandwiches – basically, what you see on the menu above my head is what we have, ma’am. Could I interest you in one of our tasty Whopper value meals? I could? Excellent, thank you ma’am. Would you like to have that Whopper your way, ma’am?
No, ma’am, that was not a sexual innuendo, ma’am. That’s our slogan, you can see it on the posters located along the walls and on the front door, ma’am. It’s also on a large banner hanging outside the building. It means – no, ma’am, it does not mean anything sexual. Yes, I’m sure, ma’am. Please put your shirt back on, you’re disturbing the other customers. Thank you, ma’am. As I was saying, “Have it your way” means you can make changes to the Whopper, ma’am, or to any of our other sandwiches. Would you like to make any changes –
You would? Cool, what would you like? “Roll the meat into balls” – ma’am, I’ve already told you, this isn’t D’angelos, D’angelo’s is across the street. We serve hamburgers here. Hamburgers are flat disks, ma’am. Or squares, if you’re at Wendy’s. But at Burger King, we serve our burger meat in round disk form, ma’am. No, I can’t change that. No, ma’am, I am not a lazy Azerbaijani. And ma’am, I resent that not only because I find racial insults beyond the pale of civilized discourse, but because I have absolutely no clue where Azerbaijan is.
Eastern Europe? Thank you, ma’am, that’s quite informative. No, ma’am, I’m not an ignorant minimum wage drone – in fact, I’m working here to help pay for college. What’s my major? Political science, ma’am.
Stop laughing. Stop laughing, ma’am. It’s not a bullshit major, ma’am. No, I don’t spend all my time drinking and fantasizing about all the women I’d meet if I had a real major. Political science is a real major, ma’am. And you might be interested to know that I’ve met plenty of women, who find me uninteresting for reasons entirely unrelated to my major. But the other customers are waiting, ma’am, and some of them are brandishing Burger King brand plastic knives, the friendly homestyle plastic knives – hey! You! Put down that spork! Does this look like a Taco Bell to you? Out! Out!
I’m sorry, ma’am. But if you could please make an order it is actually possible for me to enter into my terminal – okay, ma’am, I can do most of that, but I’m afraid we can’t drench your burger bun in the blood of a virgin. It’s against health codes, ma’am. No, the woman behind you did not volunteer for the purpose, ma’am. And she has three children, ma’am, which makes it unlikely she is a virgin…
No! Ma’am, no, I didn’t mean anything by that, ma’am! I was just trying to explain to this woman, who I’m helping right now, that you’re not a virgin, and so she shouldn’t try to drain you of blood for her hamburger! No, ma’am, I was not sexually harassing you, I was trying to convince your fellow customer not to harm you without making a scene.
Ma’am, put away the taser. Put it away, ma’am. You don’t need that. You don’t
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And, uh, correction: according to the cia world factobook (