Never Tried Fast Food Before

, , , | | Right | July 17, 2019

(I work at an independent fast food restaurant. An older couples walk in.)

Me: “Hi! Welcome to [Restaurant]. How may I help you?”

Wife: “Table for two.”

Me: “You actually order up here, and then seat yourself wherever you’d like!”

Wife: *very displeased* “How would I order up here with no menu? And how are we supposed to know where to sit if you don’t show us?”

Me: “We actually have our menu right above the register here; it has everything we serve o—”

Wife: “No. This isn’t proper. I want us to be seated with menus, like a real restaurant.”

(The husband sighs and mouths, “Sorry,” to me.)

Me: “Ma’am, we’ll take your order up here and then bring it out to you when it’s ready.”

Husband: *very upset with her* “Please just order, dear. Don’t argue with the young man about the tables.”

Wife: “No, I want to speak to your manager.”

(I go back to our office space to get her.)

Manager: “Hi. What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

Wife: “Your restaurant doesn’t have hosts or menus.”

Manager: “Yup! You’re allowed to seat yourself here, and our menu is up h—”

Wife: “NO. I want a real menu!”

Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have personal menus here.”

Wife: “What an awful place. I don’t see how you have any customers. [Husband], let’s go to the car!”

Husband: “I’ll use the restroom, quick, and then I’ll be out, dear.”

(She scoffs at me and my manager and leaves.)

Husband: “I’m so sorry. Please take this; I know customers like her are hard.”

(He gave me and my manager a $25 tip a piece. He now comes in to get food without her and is one of my favorite customers!)

Unfiltered Story #158313

, , | | Unfiltered | July 17, 2019

Man at the window: *violently opens window*
Coworker: *walks over still on the intercom with another customer*
Man: can I add another thing to my order?
Coworker: yes sir, give me a minute so I can finish taking this order and please don’t open my window again. *proceeds to close window and continue with the order*
Man:*opens window again* you think I’m some f****** weirdo or something? F*** off!! *proceeds to drive off without his order.
Me:dumbfounded
Coworker:shocked
Manager: what just happened
Coworker and I explain the situation
Manager:if he calls to complain I will simply tell him that his behavior tramatized you and caused you to take time off to speak with a therapist.

Fast Food Slowly Becoming A Joke

, , , , , , , | | Working | July 16, 2019

Having never been big on fast food, I have never been to a certain chain. My roommate is craving something from there and I have no plans, so I decide, why not try it?

The place is clean, with only one off-duty employee in the place and one car in the drive-thru. My roommate knows what she wants and instantly orders. While she does so, I read the menu and decide on something simple. As she steps to a side, I step forward… and the cashier walks off to start filling ice in the lobby. Okay, maybe he just doesn’t want it to melt all over the counter. Then, he takes the bucket back and starts going through his checklist of cleaning. I am still standing at the counter. No one is in the drive-thru now. The off-duty employee and my roommate are standing at the end of the counter waiting for food.

The manager walks up and the off-duty employee coughs and points toward me. The manager doesn’t take the hint, so he speaks up and says, “Hey, you have someone waiting to order.”

The manager yells for the cashier to come up from the back and starts my order. I ask for a #5 small combo, no mayo. I think this is a fairly simple order. I am wrong.

It takes four tries to get it entered right. I should just walk out, because the cashier does. My roommate has finished eating now. I still don’t even have a soda cup. I get handed a bag with cold fries. Nothing else.

I call the manager over. Thankfully, I have the receipt. He takes the cold fries. A few moments later, I have a burger: bun, burger, extra mayo, no cheese, no bacon — no anything but enough mayo to drown a rat. Those fries? They are even colder now. And the cup is still sitting somewhere under the counter. I look at it, look at the manager, and shake my head. He looks at the receipt and says, “Oh, I’ll fix it,” and takes the bun and starts scraping mayo off it into the trash.

My roommate is now laughing her head off. The off-duty employee is looking embarrassed and disgusted. I tell the manager not to bother, and to just refund it as I have lost my appetite. He says he will have to charge me for the soda, and my roomie, the off-duty employee, and I all ask him, “What soda? I never got a cup!” He assures me the charge has been reversed, no trouble.

The next day, on a whim, I check with the bank. Not only has he not refunded me, he has charged me a second time. I tell the bank to refuse payment as it is fraudulent. I find out the district manager’s name and number and explain what happened. He takes my name and info. I mail him a copy of the information from the bank and a copy of the receipt.

A week later, they have a “now hiring” sign up as we go past. Today, I received a handwritten note of apology and coupons for free meals, but I think I will give them to my roommate.

Those Who Fling Won’t Go Far

, , , , , , , | | Right | July 16, 2019

(It is the mid-1990s, and I’m working at a fast food restaurant with an order-by-number value menu. Towards the tail end of an unusually busy lunch rush, a woman comes into the lobby. She waits very impatiently in line for the two people in front of her, and when she finally gets to the front of the line, she says:)

Customer: “Two. Coke. Hurry.”

(I press the buttons on the touchscreen till to order her a #2 meal with a Coke, but before I have a chance to say anything to her, she pulls a credit card out of her purse and flings it at me. The card misses me, flies past me, and lands in the tray of the shake dispenser, slipping into the thin metal grate and down into the mess of milky, sugary muck below. I stare at it for a moment before slowly turning back to the customer.)

Me: “That’ll be $3.21. Would you like that for here or to go?”

(I notice that she’s still staring at the spot where her card disappeared.)

Me: “Ma’am? For here or to go?”

Customer: *still staring*

Me: *a bit louder* “Ma’am!”

Customer: *finally looks back at me* “Um… to go.”

(I push the To-Go button, which finishes sending the order back to the kitchen.)

Me: “That’ll be $3.21.”

(She reaches into her purse, pulls out a $5 bill, and very carefully sets it on the counter in front of me. I hand her the $1.79 in change along with the cup for her drink. Since there are no customers waiting, I step away from the till to get ready to assemble her order. When I hand her the bag a minute or so later, she is still staring at the shake machine’s drip tray.)

Me: *handing her the bag* “Have a nice day.”

These Are Dark Times…

, , , , | | Right | July 15, 2019

(I’m at a milkshake bar with a friend. The server finishes making an order before mine and shouts for it to be collected.)

Server: “A white chocolate and a dark chocolate milkshake!”

(A customer approaches the counter and stares at the two milkshakes, one very white and one very brown.)

Customer: “So, which one is the dark chocolate again?

Server: *stares* “You know what? I don’t remember.” *turns away*

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