Unfiltered Story #67049

I work at a restaurant that is closed on Sundays. We’re a national chain and most people know we are closed on Sundays; it’s been that way since the chain first opened years ago. All of our restaurants advertise this fact on their signs. Also note, our drive through does not open until 6:30 am each morning and we do not start serving lunch/dinner foods until 10:30 am.

It’s Monday around 3pm and I have taken a man and his wife’s orders. They are regulars and very friendly, so the manager, who is up front, and I are chatting with the couple, since there’s not much else to do right then. The phone rings and my manager answers it.

Manager (after listening for a minute): “Oh well, I’m very sorry that happened. When did you say you came through?” He gives me and the regular customers an exaggerated wink, so we start paying attention.

Manager: “You came in yesterday? …As in yesterday, [date]? … Okay, so you came through Sunday morning at what time? …6:15 am? … And your fries were soggy?”

At this point, the customers are smirking at each other and I’m trying not to laugh either.

Manager: “Did you happen to keep your receipt? …No? I’m sorry, but we can’t replace your order then… No, I’m sorry… Why? Well, we generally don’t open until 6:30 am, except for Sundays when we’re closed all day, and we don’t serve lunch in the mornings. Can I–” (He looks over at us.) “Well, they just hung up on me. I doubt they’ll call back.”