The Kitchen Manager came up to me at the LG while I was talking to my friend Nate.

"Sthorry to interrupt you guys," he lisped, but I thought you'd want to sthee this."

From his pocket he pulled a plastic bag of the quart-sized Zipl0ck variety. He reached into it and pulled out a wad of kitchen towels. Nate and I looked at each other.

"This came back with our laundry for the kitchen," he said, unrolling the towels to reveal a pair of small men's tighty whitey underwear.

"What the hell- is that guy doing our towels at home or what?!"

"I don't know. I'm going to sthee what they have to sthay about thisth."

Gross, gross, gross. I don't wash my underthings with my kitchen towels at home, and I certainly don't expect that the food service towels I use at work will be washed with such items, either.

In other news, Sven was vexed yet again by an unanswerable customer. I was "fluffing" the wine stacks (which basically means taking bottles out of the boxes on the bottom to fill up the top box, thus creating the illusion of a full display)when he approached me and said exasperatedly

"Did you hear that? One of 'those people' (the rich, mindless liberals, yuppies, egomaniacs, or any combination thereof, which make up the bulk of our customer base at the LG) just came up and I asked her if I could help her find anything, and she said she was looking for Parmesan. I showed her where it was, and she goes That's not from Italy, it's organic!"

"What did you say?"

"What could I say? I just said OKAY, and walked away. These people, they're just- aaargh!"

I think Sven needs a blog.