Counter bitch: C
We approach the counter. Counter bitch is standing there just.. doing absolutely nothing. Shit-eating grin sweeping her face. We wait for a canned greeting or question or nod or comment or anything in the world that would associate her as ready to serve us. Nope? Nothing? Alright so boyfriend just starts talking. Imagine awkward pauses between each exchange of words from each person.
H: We'd like to go bowling.
H: ... the two of us.
H: And we need shoes.
H: ......... are we at the right counter to ask for this..?
C: *shit-eating grin, hasn't moved a muscle*
H: Do I pay nowww or just walk up to a lane or get my shoes somewhere else...?
C: *instantly snaps out of shit-eating grin stage and explodes with contempt* Telling me your shoe sizes would be a good start, obviously.
H: *We're both completely stunned by her rudeness/stupidity, so we just pause a moment* Oh well you know what would have been a better start? If you would have damn well asked us that to begin with instead of making a yipping noise. Yeah thanks. Women's 8, men's 9.
C: *SMILESMILESMILE* LANE 23 IS OPEN WHY DON'T YOU TRY THAT ONE HUH?!!
Wow. I wanted to smack her.