Come for the gingerbread, stay for the freak show

Oh my god I hate people. Today at work was the most incredible and constant stream of the MOST ANNOYING PEOPLE ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET. From crazy little old ladies smelling of cat or cheap perfume (who can say which is worse?), to whole families of "Does this have lard? We don't eat lard. . . Do you make anything gluten free?" complete with screaming, whining children who pressed snotty noses against the display cases, today was RAPACIOUSLY craptastic.
The crowning glory were two Queen's students who came in. One girl asked if we were still making sandwiches. It was 5:45. We make sandwiches at lunch. I told her no, we aren't still making sandwiches.
She looked at me with a horrified stare and said in that derogatory tone I have begun to associate with Queen's students talking to "the hired help": "So . . . You don't have ANYTHING to EAT?"

As God is (or, well, isn't, whatever) my witness, that is what she said. To me. While standing. At the counter. Across from me. In a bakery.

All I want to do is crawl into bed and never come out.