I am sitting at a traffic light across from a fast-food restaurant. It is obvious that they are closed but there are still employees inside. I see something that makes me pull in. I drive up to the drive-through speaker and blow the horn. No answer. I pull around to the window and repeat the car horn. Finally, a manager comes and opens the window.

Manager: “Ma’am! We. Are. Closed.”

Me: “I know but—”

Manager: “—Closed!” *Begins to close the window.*

Me: “STOP! There is a BEAR in your dumpster!”

Manager: *Looks up at what I assume is a security camera.* “BOB! Close the door!”

Bob: “I’m taking out the trash.”

Manager: “No! There’s a bear in the dumpster.”

Bob: “No way. A bear? Here?”

Manager: “Yes, a bear. Close the door.” *To me.* “Ma’am, I am sorry about yelling at you. Thank you so much. Bob was going to get eaten.”

Me: “Maybe. But no matter what, it wasn’t going to end well. Now, how are you all leaving?”

After several seconds of looking very concerned, the manager and I agreed that I would drive around to the front door, and drive a couple of employees around the back. I parked directly next to their cars, and they jumped out and into their cars. They then went back to the front to get the rest of the employees and repeat the process.

Manager: “We’re closed. Can I offer you a cookie? It’s the only thing we have left.”

I declined, but I appreciated the offer.

I was embarrassed going to any business with my mother, but especially fast-food places, because she was such an absolute b**** to the employees. I’ve told her off about it many times, but she has this holier-than-thou attitude about it and refuses to accept that she’s just being a b****.

One time, we went through the Burger King drive-through, and after she had already paid and gotten her food:

Mother: “Can I have a small cup of the Big King sauce?”

Employee: “We can, but we have to charge you for it.”

Mother: *Immediately starts shouting at the top of her lungs.* “Oh, I thought I was at Burger King! What happened to have it your way, you f***** c***-sucker!?”

And then she floors it out of there.

I screamed at her the whole way home and told her I would not be going out with her ever again if this is how she thought she could react to every mild inconvenience. I’ve kept that promise for two years now and only see her at Thanksgiving and Christmas at her own home. She’s still confused why I’ve “abandoned” her.

I’m at a drive-thru for a restaurant chain. This chain hasn’t fully switched to the giant soda machines that let you mix/create a bunch of flavors, but they seem to be working on it. It’s sometimes hard to tell from the drive-thru, so I always give a couple of options if I’m not sure. It’s my turn to order.

Me: “Hi, can I get a combo #2 please?”

Cashier: “What to drink?”

Me: “Coke Zero if you have it, iced tea if you don’t.”

Cashier: “We don’t have Pepsi.”

Me: “Um, right. I asked for Coke Zero?”

Cashier: “So Diet Coke?”

Me: “No, Coke Zero if you have it?”

Cashier: “Okay, one Diet Coke. Your total is—”

Me: *I interrupt.* “Sorry, not Diet Coke. Coke Zero if you have it.”

Cashier: *Heavy sigh.* “We don’t have Pepsi.”

Me: *Deciding it’s not worth trying to fight anymore.* “Can I just get an iced tea, please?”

Cashier: “Combo #2 with an iced tea?”

Me: “Correct.”

Cashier: “Your total is [total], pull forward to the first window.”

I pulled forward, paid, and then got my food with the iced tea. Not sure why there was so much confusion, but I made sure that any time I go to that location, I go in to order. They still don’t have Coke Zero yet, but at least when I say, “or iced tea if you have it”, they don’t try to give me Diet Coke.

I work at a drive-thru coffee shop, and when at the window, I am eye-level with raised trucks, meaning I am a fair distance above smaller cars.

The distance, paired with the fact that there’s a speaker playing behind me and milk steaming directly next to me, can make it hard to hear some parts of someone’s order, so I read it out to them several times. 

A guest pulls up to my window in a smaller vehicle while all the sounds are happening.

Me: “Good afternoon! What can I get started for ya?”

Customer: *Facing away from me.* “Can I get a twenty [quiet] latte [garbled].”

Me: “I heard you say a twenty-ounce latte, did I hear you say quad shot?”

Customer: “Flat.”

Me: “Got it, a twenty-ounce latte steamed flat, is three shots of espresso alright?”

Customer: “It’s a quad. Quad means four.” *Holds up four fingers.*

Me: “…Yes, sir, I’ll have that right out for you.”

I’m going through the Taco Bell drive-through and handed them my American Express Hilton Honors card to pay. Basically, the more I use it, the more hotel points I get.

Employee: *Sincerely.* “Are you the owner of Hilton Hotels?”

Me: *Taken aback.* “No.”

Employee: “Are you in the family?”

Naïve me is thinking she knew what kind of card it was referring to the ‘Hilton honors family’, and that maybe she was a member too.

Me: “Yeah.”

Employee: “Woooow! REALLY? Is Paris, like, your sister?!”

So that’s how my local Taco Bell now thinks that I am an heir to the Hilton family.