A customer is ordering at our Mexican fast food place.

Customer: “I want a quesadilla with no cheese.”

Me: “Then it wouldn’t be a quesadilla. Maybe you’d prefer—”

Customer: “What I’d prefer is to not be questioned by a fast food worker and instead be given what I ask for.”

Me: “Of course. It’s just that the quesadilla won’t hold together very well without the cheese.”

Customer: “Why are you still questioning me?”

I remain silent and get her the order. I see her then try to eat this ques-no-dilla at her table, and she immediately gets frustrated that the chicken slides out of the grilled tortilla. She brings it up to complain to the manager.

Manager: “Well, no s***, lady! That’s the ‘quesa’ part of a quesadilla! Know what you’re ordering next time!”

She did not get a refund and refused the offer of a replacement.

I was working at a fast food place during a period of time when we were encouraged to upsell the meals by asking if they’d like to go to a larger size. I was serving a couple.

Me: “Okay, so that’s two [meal combos]. Would you like to supersize those?”

Male Customer: “Would you like to reach into my bank account and bleed me dry of my life savings just like all my kids at college are doing, even though I never said I would pay for their stupid liberal arts degrees, but your wife says you have to anyway?”

Me: “Uh…”

Female Customer: “Honestly, Gerald, you could just say no.” 

They did not supersize their meals. I hope he found therapy.

I work in a small chicken place in a relatively rural Australian town. We’re between two larger cities, so we often get a lot of people coming in from the highway. We also get the same bad jokes all the time from customers thinking they’re being funny, so our manager takes them on thanks to our store being privately owned and not a chain.

I am taking orders at the drive-thru.

Me: “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Customer: “A million dollars!”

Me: “With or without cream?”

Customer: “Huh?”

Me: “The ‘Million Dollars’ — the shortbread syrup flavoured coffee drink. With or without cream?”

That’s when the customer notices our expensive “specialty” drink selection at the very bottom of the menu with a lot of creative names. At this point, the customers can usually admit they made a joke lame enough to warrant a menu item being named after it, or they pony up. I honestly thought no one would spend $12 on a crappy coffee drink instead of admitting the former, but I guess my manager knows retail better than I do.

Customer: “Uh… without cream. Please.”

Other drinks on the “specialty list” include “The Winning Lottery Numbers”, “Your Phone Number”, “World Peace”, and so on…

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Customer: “I want my bacon cheeseburger with only ketchup and all the condiments.”

This confuses me because sauce and vegetables are both considered condiments.

Me: “You want everything the burgers come with, and ketchup added on them?”

Customer: “No, I want only ketchup.”

Me: “Okay… only ketchup would mean only ketchup and the cheese and bacon.”

Customer: “And all the condiments!”

Me: “That means the other sauces and vegetables.”

Customer: “No! Just ketchup!”

He finally pulls up to the window and starts arguing with me.

Customer: “Do you not know what a condiment is or are you stupid?!

He starts laying into me and calling me names. I ask my boss loudly enough for the customer to hear:

Me: “Please take over here. I’m done. I can’t deal with this idiot right now; I’m about to lose my mind.”

Later on, I find out I got his order right in the first place, but he just felt the need to argue.

Manager: “He kept trying to tell me that condiments are only vegetables, which is not true.”

Me: “I’m glad it wasn’t just me that was confused!”

Manager: “But he also said tomatoes aren’t condiments because he likes them, so I asked him if he thought condiments were just things he doesn’t like?”

Me: “What did he say?” 

Manager: “Well, you heard his engine rev up, and I’m still holding his burger… so…” *Shrugs*

One of the hospitals my mom worked at was notorious for calling her on her day off to ask her to come in. The standard response at home for anyone asking for her was finding out who was calling, telling them, “Let me see if she’s here. Hold on,” and then quietly asking my mom if she wanted to speak with them.

A few years later, I’m working my first job at a fast food place, and the phone rings. It’s the owner calling for our manager. Without missing a beat, I say:

Me: “Let me see if she’s here. Hold on.”

My manager was maybe ten feet away and gave me the weirdest look, but it wasn’t until after she finished the call that I found out why.

Manager “Do you know what you said to [Owner]?”

Me: “No.”

Manager: “‘Let me see if she’s here. Hold on.’”

Me: “Oh, crap.”

I explained myself.

Manager: *Shaking her head with amusement* “Well, [Owner] told me said to her husband, ‘She had better be there!’ before I picked up. Don’t do that again.”

Lesson learned; after that, I was careful about what I said on the phone at work.

Related:
This Is Your Brain On Autopilot, Part 5
This Is Your Brain On Autopilot, Part 4
This Is Your Brain On Autopilot, Part 3
This Is Your Brain On Autopilot, Part 2
This Is Your Brain On Autopilot