James Spader!

Wow. I was so excited today to get a customer that looked like James Spader. A few obvious imperfections made it apparent that he wasn't but still, it was remarkable.

He came through, was quite unassuming; I did take note that he ordered a strawberry banana smoothie, an odd purchase, I suppose, but then again, he wasn't really James Spader.

He drives off. We even 'googled' him to show a co-worker what he looked like. Good, clean early morning hi-jinks. I'm a fan of hi-jinks at work.

The line continues. He drives off smoothie in hand, and I turn my focus onto the other bits of minutia crucial to an efficient drive-thru. Until I hear his voice again, so laden with sarcasm it should ONLY be on a man who at least two generations of Americans have entrusted to be their oft underappreciated, always impeccable, not quite a "Bad Guy," but a real fucking creep. Maybe he really was James Spader.

There are apparently "no strawberries" in his drink. Why do we even say that we're going to put strawberries in his drink. He suggests that we either fix his drink or give him his money back.

We get into a near screaming match at the drive-thru, "I went through the rigamorole "what can I do?" he wasn't satisifed with a refund. I was a loss.

A truly Zen moment by a co-worker diffused the situation. I hope James Spader comes back. I'd apologize, for blowing a strawberry-banana smoothie that far out of proportion in life's grand scheme. In the end, it worked out, because I got one of the coolest James Spader stories out of it ever.

Oh, and to the cutomer who chatted with me on my smoke break after. Thanks.