Perfection

I've totally been neglecting you guys, sooo I'm sorry about that. I'm glad you're not puppies or small children.

Anyway, I come to you today with (what I consider) to be a relatively important topic: Perfection.

Ladies and Gentlemen.

There is no possible way--

No possible way in heaven, hell or Earth

in America, in Europe, Africa, Australia or Asia

That we can be perfect.

Not all women look like Megan Fox, not all men look like Antonio Banderas. It's a fact of life that you should take notice to.

Therefore--

If we screw up your order, don't hold it against us.

First off, we're human and make mistakes. And believe it or not, a lot of us are even further proned to make mistakes because we're under the stress of your approval. Although some of us might not seem like we care, ultimately, we're all trying to make you as happy as possible. And that's hard to do when you're staring us down.

We do ask stupid questions.

Our minds run a mile-a-minute, and sometimes we don't know what we're saying. On top of that, we have a billion or so pre-programmed phrases that (although you may have specified earlier that you didn't want any sauce for your nuggets) we'll present to you. We're not stupid, we don't think you're stupid. We're just running on a flipping crank-it-up-Russians-are-invading top speed.

All this being said, please don't expect us to be perfect. Laugh with us through our mistakes, or smile kindly.

Because the only thing we can be perfect with is our till (if we have one). I got word yesterday that my till was perfect. It felt so good.

The meat:

We're not perfect, won't ever be.

Laugh through our stupid questions.

We can only be perfect with our till count.