Counter intelligence

Like the mercury in a barometer, I rise in response to the level of atmospheric pressure surrounding me.  Work had me come in yesterday, in contrast to the past two years.  It's a good sign; people want our sandwiches enough that Rich has decided to run with a skeleton crew this week instead of hibernating until January like usual.  Monday there was apparently some big order because it was explained to me that after I dropped off a couple lunches, I would then come back and run the front end of the shop while Rich and his son were out delivering.  
Working the counter freaks me out a bit.  I'm not bad at it, I'm just afraid I'll make a mistake and lose a customer.  I had to answer the phone too, which is even more nerve wracking because our connection isn't great.  Even at the best of times I suffer from kakorrhaphio-lalio-xenophobia which is the fear that someone will talk to me in a language that is clearly English but with an accent so thick that I will not be able to understand them.  Things I am comfortable with: smalltalk; high-pressure situations.  Things I fail at in absolute terms: high-pressure smalltalk.  Seriously, if there is a consequence for not doing well, my brain will spontaneously generate the dumbest sentences Western civilization.
(Brief example)
HER: It is nice to meet you, young man who is dating my daughter.
ME: I AM THE KING OF THE BANANA-PEOPLE.
HER: I understand that you work at the church.
ME: Females should be federally licensed and monitored. 

And so on.
It went okay.  I'd like another swing at it, now that I've at least survived one day.  I like the feeling of growing outside myself.  Pat is my boss' wife, of many years, and if I'm ever old and married I'd like it to be to someone like her.  She's got this lovely gray hair, close-cropped and sensible and attractive, and she wears a skirt under her apron most every day.  She gets bored in the kitchen some days, and will just start baking things to keep herself busy.  It's good to be around on those afternoons.  She's very sweet and always willing to help me out with cooking questions; yesterday she gave me a copy of the pie crust recipe she personally uses, which was pretty amazing.  She has a way of doing things, though, and that's just the way that they're done.  She doesn't like saying "no" directly, but she absolutely refused to make a sandwich for a customer yesterday using a wrap instead of bread.  No.  That won't be possible.  I asked her about substituting tofu in a dish once and she gave me an unnerving look.  "I don't use tofu.  Ever."
She's awesome.

-J