My manager has just reamed a coworker for sitting down on the clock when none of his tasks are done. We’re about to hit shift change so there are some things that NEED to be done before a certain time. [Coworker] gets back to work but passes me sitting down in the break room.

Coworker: *To the manager* “How come she gets to sit down?”

Manager: “Because [My Name] is done with all of her tasks. In fact, she did all of her tasks, some of yours, and a few of mine. She gets to sit down when we don’t have customers.”

Coworker: “But that’s not fair! I have to work and she gets to sit down!”

Manager: “No, what’s not fair is that you were sitting down when there was still work to be done — your own work, which you still have not finished — and she was standing, trying to help you do it after lending me a hand and finishing her own tasks. You can sit down when you’re done.”

Coworker: “No, it’s not fair! I’m telling [Head Manager] about your favoritism first thing in the morning.”

I wasn’t there for it, but apparently, the head manager watched the tapes and saw that I was able to complete my tasks and help the others while [Coworker] played around on his phone and ignored everyone else around him working. He got written up. I got a bonus.

I’m an accountant. It’s early February, and everyone is getting their W2s. This is the first rush to get your taxes done, and we are fully booked. This means I’m working crazy hours doing people’s taxes. I’m working from 7:00 am to 10:00 pm. I don’t have time between clients to eat, so I eat a big breakfast and usually get something from a fast food place before bed. I usually go to marginally healthier places.

Tonight, there is a terrible blizzard. Instead of driving out of my way on the dangerous roads, I decide to visit the burger place with a drive-thru that’s near my home. It’s a bit after 10:00, and the sun’s well set, but the street lights are still on. Big huge flakes are falling from the sky, but the roads are mostly clear thanks to Minneapolis’s wonderful, overworked, but very effective snow removal people. I’m a bit low on gas, and my phone is dead.

The parking lot for the burger place is full of snow about two-thirds as tall as my tiny compact car, but there appears to be a shoveled-out line through the drive-thru, so I’m not worried.

I should have been worried. The path gets rougher and rougher the deeper I go into the line for the speaker. I’m starting to wish I hadn’t turned into the parking lot, but by the time I have finished my turn, it is already impossible to go back.

I order some food at the window… and my car becomes stuck. I can’t drive it forward any further; the wheels just spin.

I ask the employees for help. They can’t come out for safety reasons. That’s fine; I fully understand.

Could they pass me a shovel through the window with which to shovel out my car? No, they don’t have one. 

Do they have any salt I could apply? How about packets of salt for the fries? No, they can’t do that. 

What about cardboard? Do they have any old fries containers I could put under my wheels? Drink containers? Paper bags? No, can’t hand those out like that, either.

Is there someone who’s supposed to have cleared the parking lot? There’s a private company that’s supposed to do it, and they haven’t.

How are they going to get their own cars out of the parking lot? They don’t know. Their own cars are well and buried. (I feel pretty sorry for them, too, at this point.)

Could they have maybe put a sign out at the entrance saying, “Enter at your own risk.”? If I’d been warned, I wouldn’t have come through. No, that’s against policy, too.

Could one of them use the phone in there to call a tow truck? My phone is dead. Nope. They’re not allowed to use the phones inside for that purpose.

Could they call my spouse who lives with me about five blocks away? Nope, can’t do that either.

Can I leave my car here, walk five blocks back home, grab my shovel from home, and dig my car out? No. Apparently, I’m not permitted to leave my car here; they’d call the cops to give me a ticket.

Could they call the cops without me leaving the car here so I can get some help getting out of the snow? No.

What the f***?!

Could I come in out of the cold so I don’t freeze while I wait for someone to rescue me? I don’t want to leave my car running, I’ve only got a quarter tank, and I don’t know how long this could take. No, that’s too risky. Apparently, I could be a physical threat to them. Or someone could, and it’s unfair to play favorites. Fine, I understand.

So, I waited with my car turned off, in the cold, wearing a suit and a tie, until someone else got to the drive-thru and was willing to help me get my car loose with the old cardboard and pushing trick.

I drove off without paying for nor picking up my order. I did try to give the guy who helped me a twenty, but he said he didn’t want any money.

I understand that they couldn’t help me, and I understand why, but it was a very frustrating and frightening experience.

And if they can’t provide for the safety of their customers, why couldn’t they have posted a sign saying so? I wouldn’t have gone into their drive-thru had it been apparent from the street that I was on my own. I’ve not eaten there ever since, especially not on snowy days. It seems too risky.

An older woman comes driving in to give an order. Our location doesn’t have a speaker due to neighborhood ordnance, so all the orders in drive-thru are taken face to face.

Customer: “Double cheeseburger without onions.”

I ring it in, complete her order, and send her on her way. About five minutes after she picks up her food, she comes back through the drive-thru.

Customer: “They put onions on my burger!”

I apologize and print her up a duplicate receipt to confirm to her and myself that I rang it in without onions.

Me: “If you go up to the front window and tell the manager, they’ll replace the burger for free, made correctly, but I can’t do anything about it back here.”

She did so, and they gave her a brand-new burger and an apology. I thought that was the end of the situation, but boy, was I wrong. She called the state government on me, by name, demanding I be fired! I was told that she called the food safety department, the chamber of commerce, and the governor’s office.

The franchise owner called to say that it turned out that she is allergic to onions, and she straight up accused me of deliberately ringing her sandwich in wrong and trying to poison her and then printing up a false duplicate receipt of her order to make her look like a liar. Keep in mind that I read the receipt back to her and she confirmed it was her order.

I didn’t get along with the manager who was working at the time, but even he was like, “That’s complete crap. It wasn’t even [My Name]’s mistake — it was the kitchens — and we fixed it for her.”

The franchise owner was told by whichever branch of the state government called them that the customer had demanded that I be fired. I wasn’t — I wasn’t even written up — but I did stop wearing my name tag at work when I could get away with it.

I am working at a fast-food restaurant, sweeping up behind the counter. A customer starts screaming at me.

Customer: “Stop sweeping! You’re getting dust particles in my food!”

Me: “???”

I used to work in a fast food place. Our air conditioning went out one summer and we had to wait for a part to fix it. It was over eighty in the dining room, ninety behind the counter, and about a hundred degrees in the kitchen with the fryers, oven, and grill all going.

A little old lady walked up to the counter.

Lady: “It’s so hot in here! Could I go back and eat my food in the kitchen? Is it any cooler back there?”

Me: “No, ma’am. Not only is that a big health no-no, but our cook has been stepping outside into the ninety-plus-degree heat to cool down once or twice an hour.”

She didn’t seem concerned or convinced.