A few years ago, I worked at a combined pretzel and cookie place. Not the one that rhymes with pretzel or the one named after an aunt, but a much better place. Anyway, it’s summertime and we’re not too busy, so I’m doing what I can to look busy for the cameras when a woman walks up with her son in tow. I jump on register and she orders some pretzel bites and goes on her merry way.
Or so I thought.
She takes a seat with her son, and then a few minutes later, I look up to see her standing at the register, cup of bites in hand. I ask if I can help her and she proceeds to say, “My son can’t eat these. I want a refund.”
Her son was ~4 months old.