I work for a theme park, and I have decided that I absolutely loathe it when we get school groups coming in. School groups tend to carry meal vouchers, and I’ve decided that I also hate meal vouchers with a passion because dealing with meal vouchers brings out the jerk in everyone. It lists on the back of the voucher what types of meals you can get and where you can get them.
Otherwise, there is a HUGE sign at every other place that is not listed on the back. It states clearly: “BRING YOUR MEAL VOUCHER HERE FOR [MEAL] AND REGULAR DRINK. UPGRADE TO A SOUVENIR BOTTLE FOR $9.99!”
We have three brand-name restaurants in different parts of the park. There is only one that can serve the chicken-strip meal for a voucher. The other two have to serve the cheeseburger meal. That’s how it rings up when we scan the voucher, and that’s what we have to follow due to inventory. Naturally, I am NOT at the chicken strip meal location today.
A huge crowd of shouting kids comes up to the counter all wearing the same school shirt and all waving meal vouchers. They start to toss me a gigantic wad of meal vouchers. I have to scream to be heard.
Me: “Everyone, pick your meal voucher back up! One at a time only. Once I give the person before you their drink, you can hand me your voucher!”
This begins twenty minutes of total madness. When I ask one kid what their drink is, I get fourteen different answers, none from the kid I was talking to.
I also have to move my receipt printer because some kids keep trying to snatch up the receipts as they print. This horribly jams the printer, as it likes to be left alone when it feeds paper.
I finally come to a dad and his daughter.
Dad: “I want the chicken strip meal with this voucher.”
Me: “We only do the cheeseburger meal at this location.”
Dad: “Uh… no. You do chicken strips. It says you accept any meal here.”
Me: “Wow, really? Where does it say that?”
Dad: “On the back of this voucher.”
Me: “That actually says the location in [Cowboy-Themed Location].”
Dad: “This is [Cowboy-Themed Location].”
Me: “This is the [Boardwalk Location].”
Dad: “Wow. You of all people should know this is [Cowboy-Themed Location].”
Me: *Patience is gone* “In order to get here, you walked directly under a flamboyantly colored archway that said, ‘Boardwalk’ in giant letters.”
Dad: “I don’t care! I want chicken strips!”
Me: “There is no option for me at this location to give you chicken strips on a voucher. The voucher will scan as a burger meal only.”
Dad: “GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”
I get my supervisor.
Supervisor: “What’s wrong?”
Dad: “Okay, I’m not even going to begin to talk to you. You’re not a manager.”
Supervisor: “I am the only manager of this restaurant.”
Dad: “Your name tag says supervisor. So, no. Get me a manager.”
Supervisor: “I’ll have to call someone to come over, and even then, it will take a while.”
Dad: “Just do it!”
Supervisor: “Hold your horses; the phone’s in my hand!”
Did I mention that I’m the only cashier and our second cashier isn’t coming in until three? The whole park is completely swamped, but for some reason, they won’t start turning people away even when every square inch of standing room is taken up. I help all the other customers while the dad is standing there trash-talking the park to his daughter.
Finally, the manager shows up.
Dad: “My daughter and I want chicken strips on this voucher.”
Manager: “Follow me. I can help you with that.”
Dad: “Finally!”
Manager: “You’re gonna go left all the way down and then right all the way down to [Cowboy-Themed Location]. If you don’t like that option, we can serve you cheeseburgers here.”
Dad: “I. Don’t. Want. Cheeseburgers!”
Manager: “That’s fine. Let me escort you to [Cowboy-Themed Location].”
Dad: “I don’t want to walk over there.”
Manager: “Then I don’t know what to tell ya, buddy. Those are your only options. If you wanna know where to get anything else on the back of your voucher, don’t hesitate to ask.”
The dad, realizing that nobody was going to budge, muttered something under his breath, but he ended up getting the cheeseburgers after all.
