Siiiiick.

Yesterday at the bakery I was doing my thing when I heard this odd hissing noise, like Darth Vader, and looked up to see an extremely old man hobbling down the aisle in front of me with his respirator.  He stopped in front of the donut case and the following exchange occurred:

Old: What's a "fried cinnamon roll?!"

Me: Well sir it's like a donut, just a cinnamon bun that's been fried and we frost some of them!

Old: WHERE ARE THEY?

Me: (looks at case, where old man is pointing; the tray for them is empty) It looks like we've sold out of them for today sorry about that!  We have-

Old: Where do you get the price of NINETY-NINE CENTS?!

Me: Ha-ha-ha well the corporate office makes the prices and I'm not quite sure how they decide but the price for those is actually fifty-nine cents see that sign is for-

Old: That's SICK.

Me: ....

Old: (volume of voice rising) That's SICK.  That's just SICK how they think they can charge that for a DONUT who do they THINK THEY ARE?   THAT'S JUST SICK.

Me: Sorry about that sir. (walks abruptly away while he continues to yell at my back)

Old: SICK!  etc.

Doing pretty well other than old people hating me.

Putting in my notice at that job, decided today.  It's just impossible for me to keep working there once full-time classes start.  I like the people I work with but I'd much rather spend my time at the office, you know, helping people with disabilities, instead of being screamed at by them for minor inconveniences regarding baked goods.