twist

Today a 16 year old girl on a power trip tried to fuck me out of some well deserved ice cream. After trying to steal my joy by giving me the most grotesque specialty flavor that the establishment had to offer (when i had ordered a simple choc/van swirl). I, undeterred, attempted to rectify the situation by asking her to replace the cup she'd given me with the correct order. As rudely as possible, and I'm sure this B-face was trying her hardest, she told me that I got exactly what I asked for, she remembers me ordering it and she remembers making it... No shit sherlock, it was like, 45 seconds ago. Not only was I told off by a prepubescent future flag line leader, but I was completely denied my right to customer satisfaction. I was told that here (in the great state of Illinois) a "swirl" is the specialty flavor. I looked at the machine and saw the word 'twist" where the choc/van SWIRL would be located... not only that, but I didn't see the term "swirl" written anywhere in the place; not on the machines, the chalk board, the menu or her face. Seriously.... SERIOUSLY? Did I stand my ground and tell the most popular girl in shitsville to eat it, to let me talk to the manager, or just correct this shit mistake and give me what I asked/paid for?!? Of course not. I took two bites of the the poo pile and sent my friend Alex in to take care of the witch.... 10 minutes later, I had my ice cream, he had his confrontation satisfaction for the day and I'm praying she cries herself to sleep tonight... No, I hate crying, it makes me sad. But I hope that Meth Face took a real look at herself and realized she needed to seriously change a fucking screw or two before she winds up in the crack house she's bound to wind up... that is all.