Working in food service is so surreal because like… nothing I do for people is anywhere close to life and death, but some customers absolutely act as though it is. I look a woman dead in the eye and solemnly inform her that unfortunately we are out of oat milk, and I see her heart shatter in front of me, right there at the bakery counter at 8 in the morning. I feel like a handsome TV surgeon informing someone that their beloved fiancée died on the table. He’s gone… I’m so sorry. We lost him. We are out of oat milk