Our fast-food drive-thru lane has two windows, one for collecting and the other to hand out food. They also have two bright yellow poles on either side, so it’s not hard to miss. At least I didn’t think they were hard to miss. The past week or so, I’ve had an increase in people driving past this window and to the food one. This causes issues, especially in rushes, but yesterday it caused an issue I had yet to experience.

I wasn’t working drive thru, but I had a clear line of sight of the second window. I was slicing tomatoes when I heard a loud honk. I immediately drop my tomatoes and look at the window. Normally, if a customer honks, they’re mad. Someone forgot something, or their food was made wrong. As the manager, I have to go play peacekeeper. I make eye contact with the woman sitting there, who has a deer in the headlights look, and she peels away.

Definitely confused. Someone doesn’t honk for no reason, and I know my crew hadn’t talked to her since I’d been the closest staff member anyway. 

I dip into the front. I’m trying to find someone to tell me what happened. All three of my front people are crowded around the first window. I look at them and say:

Me: “Uh, what happened with that lady?”

As if they were waiting to present to me this glorious scene, they all immediately scuttle behind me. A hilarious sight as I’m the smallest person on staff.

I don’t need an explanation at this point. A truck sat in my window; the front was an absolute mess. I honestly wouldn’t have trusted it to turn on myself. My crew was whispering behind me about how mad the driver was going to be. He was getting out, and I was being pushed towards him. I brace myself.

He takes a second to look at it, then looks at me and chuckles:

Truck Driver: “That was crazy!”

I relax a little bit and smile:

Me: “Did she back into you?”

Truck Driver: “Yeah! I guess she missed the window and didn’t see me.”

This causes both of us to laugh. His truck is huge. It was a pickup but lifted and definitely a bit bulkier than what I normally see (I’m not a car person, so that’s the best description you’ll get). Its engine was also so loud that he actually had to turn it off before he even stepped out, so we could hear him talk. She was also in a little bug. There’s no way she could have missed him! 

At this point, I switch back into manager mode. I ask him if he’d like us to speak with his insurance company, would he like me to keep his info in case she comes back later, or at least let me give you a discount? He said no to everything I offered.

Truck Driver: “Honestly, I can’t even tell where she hit me! This thing has had so many accidents, I only use it for work. Good thing I’m on my break!”

That’s a relief to hear. Though he insisted on paying for all his food, I “accidentally” forgot his fries were smalls, uh oh, made them a large and they’re already in the bag. For health reasons, I can’t take them back out. You enjoy!

I wish this were where the story ended.

The next day, I’m in the office doing manager stuff when there’s a knock on my door. I look up. I’ve worked with my crew long enough to know when someone just met a customer who is gonna be trouble.

Coworker: “[My Name], this lady up at my window—”

I’m already up and walking to the front. I didn’t hear what the lady’s issue was, but I already know it’s gonna be something stupid and annoying.

I look out the window and think, “Huh, that woman looks familiar… Wait, I recognize that blue bug. Uh oh.”

I open the window:

Me: “Hey, what seems to be the issue here?”

Customer: “I came through here yesterday.”

Me: “Okay.”

Customer: “I ordered, but I never got my food. I want it now.”

Me: “That’s strange. Do you have a receipt?”

Customer: “No, but I know I paid!”

She definitely didn’t pay. Only managers can delete orders, which I had to do when she drove away.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t help you without a receipt.”

Customer: “But I already ordered my food yesterday, and I paid!! I want it now!”

I’d been here for about eight hours straight at this point. The nice professional facade was starting to crack.

Me: “Ma’am, if what you’re saying is true, you would have gotten your food yesterday.”

Customer: “Well, I didn’t! Either give me my food or a refund!”

Me: “I can’t do that, ma’am.”

Customer: “If you don’t give me my food right now, I’ll call your corporate office and have you fired!”

Oh no, how scary. I’m the only person they’ve found who’s willing to get up early enough to open their store, so these threats don’t even bother me. They do make me lose all respect for the customer, though. I take a breath and put on my best grin. I look her in the eyes and say:

Me: “Please do. I’d love a reason to show them our security footage from yesterday. We had an accident happen, and the guy wouldn’t let me call the cops, but if corporate saw, they’d have no choice. I just feel so terrible that that happened.”

Her face whitened. I continued to grin. She started to sputter, and suddenly I became concerned, maintaining eye contact the whole time:

Me: “Now that I mention it, the other vehicle was a blue buggy, just like yours. Oh, I hope the cops don’t get confused and think it was you. That would be terrible…”

I kept the look on my face, and we stared at each other in silence until she drove away.

Years ago, I worked at a well-known Canadian hardware and automotive store. While many of these stores can be quite large (upwards of a hundred aisles), this particular one was only thirty-two aisles, plus a small garden section.

I’d been hired to work in the hardware department, but, due to the size of the store, “hardware” basically meant “not automotive”. I covered hardware, housewares, sports, seasonal, and garden.

One day, while stocking shelves in the electrical aisle, I was approached by a customer.

Customer: “Excuse me, I need some help in Automotive.”

As that wasn’t my department, I was about to do what I usually do, and direct her to speak to someone at the automotive service desk. However, from where I was in the aisle, I could see that there was already a fair line-up at the desk.

Me: “Well, it’s not actually my department, but what is it you’re looking for? I may be able to help.”

Customer: “I need new wiper blades for my car.”

Me: “Okay. I’m fairly certain there’s a book we can use.”

I take her over to where the wiper blades are located, and sure enough, there’s a reference book mounted in the center of the aisle. I flip it open and quickly see that it’s organized by vehicle make, model, and year. Perfect, this should be easy.

Me: “Okay, I can help you with this. What type of car do you have?”

Customer: “Oh, I have a blue one.”

Me: “…You know what? Actually, I think you’ll need to go stand in that line and talk to someone at the auto service desk.”

I’ve always found that talking about gaming is a good ice breaker. I was born in the 90s, so I grew up with some of the earlier consoles, such as PlayStation and Xbox. On this particular day, I’m working with a fairly new colleague, helping to straighten an aisle. We get into the subject of gaming.

Colleague: “So, what are you playing at the moment?”

Me: “I’ve just restarted Fallout 4, actually! I left it too long, so I forgot what I was doing, so I just started again.”

Colleague: “Oh yeah, I’ve heard a lot about that game. What’s it about?”

Me: “Basically, surviving the apocalypse. It’s good. The main storyline is finding your son, but to be honest, there’s so much to do that you forget you even have a son! I played it for days before remembering my son.”

My colleague laughs, and we chat some more about his favourite games and upcoming games we’re excited for. And that’s when we become aware of a customer stomping up to us with a manager in tow. We just caught the tail end of her talking to the manager.

Customer: “…and I demand that you call social services while you’re at it! This one, here!”

Manager: “[My Name]? You don’t have kids, do you?”

Confused, I shake my head.

Customer: “Rubbish! I heard plain as anything you admit to child neglect! You leave your son for days while you play your stupid games!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and after a horrified look from the customer, I realised she was deadly serious. So, I stood there beside tinned fruit and other delicacies, explaining as gently as possible to the customer that the only child neglected was a pixilated one.

To give her credit, she did laugh it off with us, and the manager jokingly warned us against speaking about child neglect – either virtual or otherwise – on the shop floor. I admire her for looking out for kids to the extent she did, though, even if he is fictional and lost somewhere in a wasteland.

Caller: “My pizza is late!”

Me: “Sorry, sir, we’re very busy tonight due to the heavy rain and the big game playing. We are warning customers to give us an extra half an hour. Your pizzas should be with you any minute.”

Caller: “Oh, I already have the pizza. It came a few minutes ago.”

Me: “Oh… well, is there anything wrong with the pizzas?”

Caller: “Yeah, they were late!”

Me: “Well, I apologize for that, but as I explained, it couldn’t be helped tonight. Enjoy your pizzas!”

Caller: “You aren’t going to offer me anything?”

Me: “Sir, we explained to you when you ordered that deliveries are taking half an hour longer than usual. You got yours in less than that half an hour extra time, so no, I won’t be offering you anything.”

Caller: “Well, this is ridiculous! I won’t be ordering from you again!”

Me: “We appreciate you lightening our already overburdened load by taking your business elsewhere. Enjoy your pizzas.”

Caller: “No, wait, I didn’t mean—”

Me: *Click.*

Our counter is quite high up, and if someone stands close to it, we can’t see anything below their chest. A rather short lady comes up, already looking done with the entire world.

I’m still counting out the previous customer’s loose change when she addresses me.

Customer: “I’d like to purchase a tea, please.”

Me: “I’ll be right with you, ma’am, once I’ve straightened up my register.”

Customer: “Have you heard me? I’d like to purchase a tea.”

Me: *Done counting.* “Yes, ma’am, one tea. Will that be all for you today?”

She gives me a sarcastic look like “of course it is!”. So I decided not to press it further. I ring up her total and turn around to make her tea. Facing the coffee maker on the other end of the bar now, though, a previous customer (a regular) shows up, apologetically pointing at her tea.

Regular: “I’m so sorry, but there is a yucky-looking eyelash floating in my tea.”

Me: “Oh, no worries! I’ll replace that for you.”

Before I can remake her tea, my boss needs me for something quick. The regular notices and gestures to go to my boss first, saying she has no rush.

Coming back after less than a minute (and my quickly distracted ADHD brain frazzled), I realize I now have two tea orders open. I lost sight of the grumpy lady during all this, but she has made her way to the side of the bar where the coffee maker and the tea supplies are.

Customer: “What’s this? You’d think my tea would be here already! I deliberately went to the toilet first, so I wouldn’t have to wait. And it’s not here.”

Me: *Forcing my retail smile.* “Your tea is coming right up, ma’am. Been called away for a second, it’s busy busy!”

It takes literally seconds to make it. I put the glass on a saucer, as is custom, and serve it to her.

Customer: “Uhm, maybe leave out the saucer? I’m leaning on a crutch! How do you expect me to…? Ugh. Do you have a tray or something?”

Only now I see her mobility aid, obscured by our high counter at first. Not sure how the tray will help her, but I fetch her one.

Me: “Apologies, I can also bring it to your table if you like, if you’d show me where you’d like to be seated?”

Customer: “No. You’re soooo busy. I got it.”

She haphazardly throws a tea strainer on the tray, reaches over the bar to stick her hand in the box with the complimentary little cookies – that we normally neatly place on the saucer with the sanitary use of tongs – flings it on there as well, and huffs and puffs away.

I’m breathing in deep to regain some composure, then get reminded of the regular whose tea I’m yet to replace.

Me: “I’m so sorry. I’ll get your tea right away. It’s busy…”

Regular: “Listen. I have eyes. I can see you are busy and dealing with crap. I got time. You just chill, okay? You’re doing great.”

I thanked her, made her tea, gave her an extra cookie, and went on with my shift. On her way out, the regular waved, blew me kisses, gave a thumbs up, and said:

Regular: “Don’t let them drive you mad! Thanks again!”

Oh, the contrast.