Watch me try for four....

Third post in four hours.

So. I'm trying to decide where I stand in the food service industry.
Like Tevya, I weigh my options:
On one hand, I've stood behind the counter to serve many a drunk, many a impatient mother, many a low talker who can't make up their mind, many a moron.
On the other hand, I like getting exactly what I want when I pay for it.
On the other hand, I know that after a long day, patience wears thin for customers.
On the other hand, I hate seeing dirty conditions. (Because we kept our displays spotless and our kitchens above code so if a server's display is dirty, what do their kitchens look like?)

I realize that what I really want is everyone to be like me, or a better server...You know, service with a smile, proactive, clean, efficient.

I got me some lunch, figgering that Gardener's Market (the Pinecrest Mother's Haven) would have some nice, vegetarian sandwiches, albeit on the pricey side.
A glance at the menu and I realized I could recreate my personal favorite off the Pita Pit Menu. Hummus Pita with shredded lettuce, tomatoes, onions (my version continues with peppers, black olives, falafel, banana peppers, oregano) and a dash of Ceasar dressing.
Long story short, the sandwich sucked as much as the service. I was, to say the least, a tad dismayed at my misspent cash.

So what? Do I make excuses for her, assuming that it has been a long day serving the Pinecrest Mothers (even though traffic flow indicates that a large part of Miami is on vacation)?
Do I allow the not so FDA Inspection worthy working conditions to slide because it's a small grocery store?
Or do I get frustrated with the fact that even if she's had a long day, she could still do a better job putting my lunch together?
It's not worth my time at this point to go and ask for my money back. As of now, I'm just thinking it's lucky for the girl that I was not a woman I'll call Daisy.

Allow me to explain. Like many college-aged girls, Daisy has worked a string of waiting jobs. Several ended in disasters (long ago), so I know she has little amiability towards the fussy customer. Yet every time I dine out with her, I am amazed, even embarrassed at just how nit-picky she can be. I assure you that not once in my entire dining career with her have we ever remained at the table at which we were seated. Every time is like a game of musical chairs until she finds the best table in the whole world. Everything must be just so or the tip will suffer. But having been on the other side, how can Daisy manage to hold such little patience?

I don't really want to end up like Daisy, but neither do I want to allow half-assed snow jobs to pass.
What's a girl to do?