I once found myself in a Fire + Ice restaurant with a middle aged Texan man.
When told by the 18 year old waiter that they did not have his choice of beer, the Texan replied,
"Kid, don't make your problem my problem".
I made a mental note to one day, use that myself.
For the uninitiated Fire + Ice is a moronic "pick out your own food, and watch it grilled in front of you" concept loved by idiot kids. Apparently it is also a sexual act involving (in no particular order) whisky, a tongue, ice and a butt.
Either way, Fire + Ice is not my thing. As usual I've digressed.
Another place I did not want to be was the Enterprise rental office in LAX at 11.30pm last night.
The guy who handled my reservation was real nice, and apologized that their computer was down. Using good old fashioned triplicate paper we worked through the problem until it came to what size car I had ordered. I confessed that I had no idea. At this point the woman of color next to him jumped in and decreed that I should know this info.
I smiled and admitted that my Business Manager had placed the reservation.
"Sir, sir ....", oh how I love to receive the Double Sir. This lit my fuse.
"Lady (note I did not double down on the lady opening), don't make your problem, my problem."
"Excuse me?" Two simple words but delivered with wide eyes, a shoulder shake, and three very deliberate syllables. All that was missing was the 'z' snap.
It went downhill from there ... which is probably why I ended up in a shitbox Kia Rio ... and to be fair, downhill is the best place to be heading in a Kia Rio.