Stemming The Sauce Of Your Problems

(This occurs in the drive-thru of a popular fast food place. My friend always asks me to drive her there. The same thing always happens.)

Friend: “Can I get… uhh… two [Sandwich]s… uhh… a small fry and… uhh… a small Coke!”

(The attendant repeats the order, gives the total, and directs us to the window where we pay. My friend always waits until the last second to ask for sauces.)

Friend: “Hey, can I get some BBQ and honey mustard?”

Drive-Thru Attendant: “They’re 50 cents apiece.”

Friend: “That’s bull-s***! F****** ridiculous! 50 cents for a little-a** cup of sauce?” *as she’s digging for change* “You’re f****** company makes so much god-d*** money.”

Me: “God-d***-it, [Friend]! You pull this s*** every time we come here and it’s EMBARRASSING! She doesn’t make the prices nor does she get to see those millions in profits. We work in fast food, too, and hate when customers are rude to us. How DARE you treat these employees like that?! Every time we come here they tell you it’s 50 cents for sauce. Order it with your meal, pay for it, and shut the f*** up.”

(I turn to the attendant who has been standing at the window with a shocked look on her face. My friend stares at me meekly and hands me the dollar for her sauces which I pass along to the girl.)

Me: “Thanks, love, and sorry about her. Have a good night and I hope the rest of your customers aren’t as bad as my friend.”

(She never b****ed about paying extra for sauces again.)