Saying Bye Fry
This was many, many years ago. I’m like twenty-two years old at the time, from Sweden, and it’s my first time in New York City. I’m there with a friend, we have just seen an evening show, and on the way back to where we were staying (couch surfer thing).
We walk past a McDonald’s. I tell my friend:
Me: “I could really just go for some fries to munch on for the way back.”
So, we stop by. It’s a slow night, not many customers. I go up to the counter and try to catch the eyes of the cashiers. No one comes up to me straight away; I stand there for like thirty seconds, while they finish a story between themselves. Then one of them approaches me.
Cashier: *Barely looking at me.* “Hey, what’ll it be?”
Me: “Hi! Could I just get a medium fries, please?”
He grunts for an answer, I pay, and he tries to hand me the receipt.
Me: “Oh, I don’t need it, you can just throw it away, thanks!”
He looks at me with what I can only describe as a disgusted look, one that either says “I’m not gonna throw anything away for you,” or “Idiot, you need your receipt.” I’m not really sure which one, but I immediately go:
Me: “Or, maybe I… need it, thanks.” *I grab it.*
He then leaves the counter. I stand a little to the side to make sure I’m not blocking the path for anyone else who wants to order. The cashier doesn’t go straight to the fries but seems to go back to talking to his friends. I think I’m just assuming that maybe he’s waiting for a new batch or whatever. We’re not really in a rush, so we just wait. Maybe there’s like one more customer during our wait time, but definitely not more.
After a few minutes, the same guy looks at me, and it honestly seems like he’s noticing me for the first time.
Cashier: “Can I help you in any way?”
Me: *Holding up my receipt.* “Oh, I’m… waiting for a medium fries.”
To his credit, I suppose, he goes:
Cashier: “Oh, sorry!”
And he goes straight to the fries and gets me what I ordered. He hands it to me, and I thank him.
My friend and I head out, and we can’t help but laugh because we are so confused as to what just happened. I myself had worked in the service industry (restaurant) for a few years at that point, and I have never seen anyone care so little about their job. We get back to our couch surfer home and tell the New Yorker living there the story.
His response:
Host: “Yeah, I mean, working a minimum wage job in a (usually) very stressful place, where you often get treated like shit by both management and customers… it probably strips you of any kind of energy you might have started with. So I think we decide here and now, we cut that guy some slack.”
So, we did!
