Battalion Bread

I have a fun story for you.

Today, the schedules at work got messed up, and no one was there until 5am. That wouldn't be a problem in any other grocery store deparment, but I work in the bake shop. We have to have several different kinds of bread and rolls (and bagels and pastries, etc) on the shelves by 6:30am; that was bad.

Then our oven, which had been on the fritz recently, finally kicked the bucket. No matter what we set the temperature at, it wouldn't get warmer than 100 degrees. We had one oven, and an hour and a half. Needless to say, things weren't out on time.

At around 7, we were still putting things in the oven.

A man came up to the counter, after spending several minutes staring at the shelf.

"Do you have battalion bread?" he asked. "I can't find any."

"What?" I thought for sure I had mis-heard him.

"Battalion bread," he repeated. I stared at him for a moment, when suddenly the metaphorical light bulb over his head turned on. "Oh! I mean Italian bread!" I looked around, and we had some in the oven, but none that was already done. I appologized and told him to come back in half an hour.

He never came back, but I giggled all day.

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