Cheesing You Off, One Lactose At A Time

(My dad, brother, and I offer to pick up a quick dinner for my mom, who is home and has to go to work soon. My dad pulls up to the speaker of a fast food restaurant. My mom has a very severe milk allergy [not just lactose intolerance], so she only gets plain hamburgers, no cheese.)

Dad: *into the speaker* “Hi, can I get a #1 combo, just ketchup? And no cheese on the burger.”

Worker #1: “No problem. A hamburger combo, plain just ketchup?”

Dad: “Yes, and no cheese. My wife is allergic.”

Worker #1: “Okay. Your total is [total]. Please pull forward.”

(We get up to the window to pay, and [Worker #1] hands my dad the receipt. He double checks it and it says “#1 combo-ketchup and cheese”. He gets [Worker #1’s] attention.)

Dad: “The receipt says cheese on the burger. I need it to be plain with just ketchup.”

Worker #1: “Uh… yeah. It’ll be without cheese.” *slams window shut*

(When the worker returns, he gives us the bag. My dad pulls ahead a bit and asks my brother to check the sandwich. Sure enough, it has ketchup and what appears to be cheese that was hastily scraped off. No one is behind him, so he reverses back to the pick up window. [Worker #1] is speaking with someone at the speaker, so we wait. After taking the other order, he looks at my dad, rolls his eyes and ignores him. My dad takes the burger from the bag, and holds it out the window, waving it around. Finally [Worker #1] opens the window.)

Dad: “You said it wouldn’t have cheese, but this clearly has cheese you just scraped off.”

([Worker #1] takes the burger, throws it at an inside trash can, hard, and walks away without a word. After a moment, [Worker #2] comes back with a new burger.)

Worker #2: “Here you go, sir. Sorry about that. This one has no cheese.” *My dad starts to unwrap it to check.* “Oh, you don’t need to check, I made that myself. No cheese.”

Dad: “Yeah, that’s what the last guy said. My wife is extremely allergic to milk, so if this had cheese your restaurant would have a real problem on your hands.”

Worker #2: “Well, this one has no cheese. Good night.” *She shuts the window and walks away.*

(My dad is known to ask for a manager and rightfully complain when situations like this happen [and unfortunately these happen to him an a regular basis, and he is not one to suffer fools]. But because my mom was working soon he decided against it this time. Later, he did the customer survey explaining what happened, and was offered a free combo. His response to them: “I’ll vote for [despised president] before I eat at your restaurant again.”)