It was a long night on the bar tonight, and with me to bear it was Simon, one of the new bartenders. I’ll cut this story short and get straight to the fun part. Before long we got bored enough to start playing ‘the cat game’, wherein you try to sneak the word ‘meow’ into serving a customer. Anyway, we started getting really brave with this, but no one was catching on; even when we were bursting out laughing at overhearing each other. Eventually, we decided to spice it up by just saying random animal names. It still didn’t work, because no one ever listens to the people serving them. Before long it was just a tirade of nonsense words and gibberish. This is how far it all got, and this is a genuine, exact transcript.

Me: Meow who’s next?
Idiot: Me, please.
Me: Meow what’ll it be?
Idiot: Glass of wine.
Me: Whitebait or red rum?
Idiot: Red, please.
Me: Meowlot, sheepraz, or valpolicella meow?
Idiot: Shiraz, please.
Me: Small, meowdium, or large?
Idiot: Medium, please.
Me: Anything elf?
Idiot: Bottle of cider.
Me: Giraffe with the cider?
Idiot: Sorry?
Me: Do you want ice with the cider?
Idiot: Oh… Yeah, please.
Me: *handing him drink* Hair you grow.
Idiot: Cheers.
Me: Tiger’s that all?
Idiot: Yeah.
Me: Meow that’ll be seven pounds and fish-ty five pence.
Idiot: *handing over money* There.
Me: Sharks a lot! *getting change* There you go, captain crab. Cat’s two forty fried back.
Idiot: Cheers.
Me: Sheep you very fluff.

Pretty bad, huh? Still it’s better than when I used to work in a supermarket, and I told every customer to go fuck themselves, which they would reply to with either “Yes, I’d like some bags, please.” or “I did bring my club card.”