The first was a woman who came in and refused to touch any of our samples. The way we have it set up there's a large round table with all the flavors in large sample cups. You take a toothpick, stick it in some bread, and taste that way. She insisted that our samples had been out all day and were unsanitary. She clearly wanted to taste things however. I asked if she'd like me to fill a smaller sample cup for her. We have them handy if anyone is gluten intolerant, or we want to show a mix of things. She agreed and as soon as I handed her the cup she began dipping her fingers into the oil and licking it off. I had watched her open the door, touch her purse, and bottles, and her clothing, before licking her hands. I repressed the urge to ask if she really felt that was more sanitary than trying the samples I'd put up less than an hour earlier under a plexiglass dome. She then complained that she had oil on her hands and I told her that yes, most people sipped it from the cup. She looked affronted and demanded I get fresh bread so she could try things without soiling her fingers.
A gentleman in his fifties came in and told us how he'd never got the hang of eating spaghetti. He was delighted to inform us that when cooking it at home he had finally, FINALLY worked out a way to eat spaghetti the way he wanted by breaking the noodles into fourths before cooking them. My coworker and I brainstormed how he could have been so inept at eating pasta. Did he never learn the spoon trick? Did he not twirl the noodles? Had he ever tried penne? Did he realize through the long frustrating years that it was possible to cut cooked noodles? We may never know.
The last person was a much younger girl. She was possibly in her twenties, and was loudly and enthusiastically wrong about almost everything in the store. She insisted the pesto genovese we had tasted like parmesan cheese. I told her that parmesan is a major component in pesto and she scoffed and said not the kind she bought. She then began to sample the oils and vinegars. She'd eaten three or four bread dipped samples before she asked me if they were gluten-free. I stared at her, and the bread, and then back to her, "I mean, yes, but the bread's not." She just blinked at me until I repeated that no, there was no gluten in olive oil.
