The Break That Broke Them

, , , , , , , | Working | March 22, 2018

(I decide that it would be a good idea to go get a meal at two am.)

Employee: “Thank you for choosing [Fast Food Place]. How can I help you?”

Me: “Can I get a cheeseburger, onion rings, and some chicken fries, please?”

Employee: “Certainly! That’ll be [total], please.”

(I make it a point to be polite at all times at any fast food store, but when it’s two am, I try to be even more pleasant. I usually strike up small talk, but I get into an interesting conversation.)

Me: “So, how’s the graveyard shift going?”

Employee: *while preparing my large order* “It’s been fine, I guess.” *long blank stare* “No! Actually, it hasn’t been fine! I’ve been here by myself for two hours now, and my other coworker left for a break two hours ago.”

Me: “Yikes! I’m sorry to hear that. Please, take your time with the order; I’m in no rush.”

Employee: *literally in tears* “Thank you!”

(At this point I hear and see a small moped drive up to the parking lot. I can’t see the person very well, but they’re wearing their uniform for [Fast Food Place]. The guy walks in and goes back to the kitchen.)

Coworker: “So, has it been super busy?”

Employee: “Are you f****** kidding me?! I let you leave for a break two hours ago, and you decide to show up with that attitude?”

(She takes her coworker back behind the flame grill, closer to the first pick-up window for the drive-thru. She begins screaming, yelling, and cussing her coworker out. She then looks in my direction, as I am still just standing at the counter, waiting for my food.)

Employee: “I’m… I’m sorry you just heard all that. I… I forgot you were still here. Would you like another burger, or perhaps some fries? Here; have some zesty sauce for your onion rings, free of charge!”

Me: “Thank… you. Have a nice morning.”

(I’ve been into that establishment more than ten times since this accident and have never seen the poor guy who went on a two-hour break ever again! It’s also nice to get free food every once in a while.)

How To Be “Not Wrong” In The Most Wrong Possible Way

, , , , , | Right | March 22, 2018

(I work at a popular fast food restaurant that is known, among other things, for its cardboard crowns. This happens after I’ve finished taking the orders of a man and his son, who looks about four or five years old.)

Me: *to the son* “And would you like a crown?”

Son: “I’m not a f****** baby, you stupid c***.”

(Shocked, I look to the father to see how he’ll react, but he just shrugs.)

Father: “Well, he’s not wrong.”

Definitely Has The Balls To Do It

, , , , , , , , | Romantic | March 21, 2018

I work at a fast-food place with my friend. It’s mid-summer and my friend has just had a messy breakup with his girlfriend of three years, after he caught her having sex with another friend. Four days post-breakup, we are working the grill area when in walks his ex and the guy she cheated with, clearly showing him off as her new boyfriend.

She makes eyes with my friend and then orders her food. It’s all grill items, and my friend knows it’s her order because she ordered the same unusual alterations to her food when they were together.

It becomes apparent very quickly that both she and the guy intend to humiliate my friend by making him make them their food. He looks around and notes several things.

1) It’s the middle of summer and it’s over 35 degrees Celsius [95 degrees Fahrenheit] in the kitchen.

2) His crotch and rear have been within three feet of a 180+ degrees Celsius [356+ degrees Fahrenheit] grill for several hours.

3) The managers on duty are all either doing office work or customer facing, and can’t see him.

4) His ex can only see him from the neck up, due to how the kitchen is built.

My friend then decides that his ex’s order needs some extra sauce. He proceeds to work his hands down his pants and, after a bit of wiggling, brings from the depths of his crotch enough sweat to drip it onto first the ex’s and then the new boyfriend’s burgers before sending them and wandering off to wash his hands. Throughout all of this, I have neither intervened (because she did kind of deserve it) or assisted (because I didn’t want “sweat sandwich” as my dismissal reason), but I have kept a straight face and so has he. His ex doesn’t realise something is up, and once she gets her food, she looks at him again and smirks before wandering off to sit down.

At this point, I fulfil my obligations as a normal human and tell him he’s a maniac, he laughs it off, and we carry on about our business, stopping briefly to watch his ex and her new boyfriend leave the store.

Other mutual friends and coworkers of ours inform me that this event repeated on no less than five other occasions over the next four weeks, so the two of them got quite the dosage over time.

So far as I know, she never discovered that she ate a diet very high in ball sweat for several weeks, but it’s remained an amusing story within our friend group for the better part of a decade now.

The lesson to be drawn from this is: don’t go rubbing things in the face of someone who’s making your food. Who knows what “extra ingredients” you might end up with?

The guy is a prison warden now; God help the inmates.

Not So Wild About Mild

, , , , | Working | March 20, 2018

(I am in the drive-thru of a restaurant that specializes in fried chicken tenders. I order a mild tender combo. This happens when I pull up to the window:)

Employee: “That was a four-piece tender combo, with fries, gravy, and a [drink], right?”

Me: “That’s right.”

Employee: “And you wanted those tenders spicy, right?”

Me: “No, mild.”

Employee: “Um… So, like, just slightly spicy?”

Me: “No, not spicy at all. Mild.”

Employee: “We only have original and spicy.”

Me: *restraining myself from slamming my head on the steering wheel* “Original, then.”

Unfiltered Story #107409

, , , | Unfiltered | March 19, 2018

I was working the line and a customer comes and asks ”what kind of beans are the black beans?” And as politely as possible I say “uh… Black beans?”

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