The Mysterious Croissant Customer
I had one customer who was definitely right, and no one saw it coming. I ran a bakery in Florida, near a very large Air Force base. Every day, this man would come into the bakery, buy a croissant and complain about the price, quality, and whatever he could. It was as if he lived to complain.
And that struck me as odd. After so many years in retail, I got pretty good at eyeballing the customer. This guy was young, good-looking, kind of Mediterranean, well-dressed, and clean-shaven. He’s not the type to b*tch like a bitter old man. But he did.
On Monday morning he comes in, just as bitter as always. “How can you sell these for so much? They are not worth a dollar.”
“Dude, you’re the only one who complains. I thought you loved our chocolate croissant.”
“I f*cking hate it,” he said. Then he smiled. “But after today, I don’t have to eat these f*cking things.” He takes his croissant and leaves. I didn’t really know what to make of this, and I didn’t expect to see him again.
But the next day, Tuesday, there he was, earlier than usual. And he was happy. Not just smiling, but genuinely happy. He bought his usual and said, “Today is going to be a great day. You will always remember today.” He then happily sauntered out of our bakery. An hour later, on Tuesday, September 11, 2001, the sh*t goes down.
I never saw the guy again. I called the local FBI, who briefly interviewed me, and said the guy was probably monitoring and recording activity at the local air base.
The customer was right. I never forgot that day.