Dispatches from the Bread Front

As a firm believer in friendly, helpful, and often obsequious customer service, I've mastered the apologetic No with the conciliatory But. Fer'example:
"No, we don't make cakes but I can direct you to the other *cough* sketchier bakery in town."
"No, we don't have skim milk but we do have the surprisingly comparable 2%. You can barely tell the difference!"
But once in awhile, when a customer asks for a product that violates our informal mission statement, I relish the unconditional No.
"No we don't have low-carb/sugar-free/gluten-free ANYTHING (unspoken: GETOUDDA HERE with your food fads)."
Alas, to them I may come across as impatient or condescending, but so help me, it feels good.

Still in the bakery:
A while ago I served Andie MacDowell of Groundhog Day fame. I didn't really recognize her except that she seemed unusually beautiful and sparkly. She ordered a chai latte. Afterwards Jillian and I tried to puzzle out why we were left with a lingering feeling of disappointment and finally realized: she shouldn't have ordered something so mundane. Of course! Her drink of choice should have been a sugar-free Red Bull macchiato, a chic monstrosity which must exist in that den of frivolous mixology, the Land of Rich/Famous People.

One more dispatch:
A conversation that occurs with embarrassing frequency.
"Wow, you're growing up so fast! What year are you in school?"
"Well, I'm about to be a senior, if you can believe it!"
"Oooh, are you thinking about colleges yet?"
Awkward pause..."if by thinking about colleges you mean grad schools..."
Frantic backpedaling..."Oops, well gosh! When you're fifty you'll be glad you look so youthful!" Which is a good point I suppose. But still. Ouch.