So I’m at Tim’s having a bowl of chili and a decaf, thinking about what just happened.
I asked the woman at the till to get me a balance on some cards. “You don’t remember what you have? Really?” she asked in a childish voice. WTH? Why ask me this? “All of them? Well how many cards do you have?” WTH again. “I’ve only got three,” I say to her. She scans the first one and asks, “Do you see the balance? Can you remember that?” <Ahem> When she was done, I asked her, “You think I have a short memory, eh? I’ve got dozens of cards for everything. No, I have no idea what the balance is.” I was going to ask her if she could remember my order, but I was too polite. I now think I should have.
There is a balance between formal politeness and familiar friendliness. She broke that balance.